


Eyes of Blight - An Invader Zim Fanfiction

by Turbuggy



Series: Eyes of Blight - An Invader Zim Fanfiction [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-01-05 11:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18364730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turbuggy/pseuds/Turbuggy
Summary: When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've recently gotten back into Invader Zim BIG TIME, and have really been wanting to do something with my SAVerse AU. So, I decided that I'd make the entire thing into a fic! I've already got a few chapters written, and I'm pretty pumped about it! 
> 
> Here's the very first chapter! It is... shorter than I realised, but I promise they will get longer as I go on!

* * *

 

 

A lot of things can change in the span of 9 years. A lot of things can also _stay the same_ . People grow, people mature. Hobbies come and pass, interests hop from one thing to the next. _Passions_ , however, those never change.

 

Ever since the alien had first landed back in 7th grade, Dib had been religiously watching, learning, and thwarting. At the young age of 12, the boy had always dreamed of finding truly solid proof of the paranormal. He had spent most of his time before Zim’s arrival chasing hoaxes and rumours, so it wasn’t hard for him to latch onto the thought of exposing the alien, and finally losing the labels he had gathered through the years. _Perhaps_ he had gone a little far, but weren’t all kids a little much at that age? He liked to think so.

Nowadays, at 21, Dib wasn’t _nearly_ as neurotic as he had been back then. He had realised years ago that the threat he had assumed Zim to be just _wasn’t there_ . 9 years had come and gone, and yet Zim had not yet managed to conquer even a _stone_ , let alone the _entire planet_ . The human never stopped watching the alien, and often found himself falling back into their regular routine of _scheme-and-thwart._ Though, Zim’s plans didn’t come about as often as they used to, and Dib had other things to worry about, like his job, and his rent.

 

Things had really begun to slow down after high school graduation. The IRKEN hadn’t grown an inch in the 9 years he had lived on Earth, much to his dismay, and this made the higher grades much more of a chore. Instead of being the _‘strange kid with a skin condition’,_ he was now the _‘strange_ **_short_ ** _kid with a skin condition’_ . Zim found that he struggled to see over the desks, struggled to reach the shelves in the lockers. It seemed that the world was growing around him, and yet he was staying the same. Or perhaps, it was _he_ that was _shrinking_ , just like his hope of ever finishing the mission he was sent to complete.

 

Further education was out of the question. Zim found it tough enough to pass as a high school student, and knew that the only reason he had managed it at all was the fact that he had gone through lower-level schooling with the other children. There would be no way that any respectable college or university would accept the 3-foot-tall alien into enrolment. Besides, Zim thought, he had learned enough about the humans! He needed to focus on his mission more than _ever before_ . He _had_ to complete his task. He _had_ to please the Tallest, if he were ever going to be the Invader he so often claimed to be.

 

Despite the alien’s decline in plans over the years, Dib still noticed the alien’s absence when he slowly stopped showing up at the Starbunks during his shifts, or running around outside his little green house doing… _things_ . The human never thought he would see the day when Zim would _quit_ , and couldn’t help but feel that there was something _horribly wrong_. Was this all part of his latest plan? Was he trying to trick Dib? Lull him into a false sense of security? Whatever was going on, it wasn’t about to work.

 

* * *

 

 _April 6th, Thursday_ _  
_ _agentmothman_se:_

 

 _Here I am again, LiveJournal, on a brand new account!_  
_  
_ My last account, agentmothmanSE, got taken down because my sister Gaz got angry with me when I spilled soda on her GameSlave. So now I have to have an underscore in my username. Ugh.

  
_I really need to start saving to try and get my own place. Gaz is always upset with me about something, and I’m starting to feel pretty cramped in this house. Dad’s never around, but what else is new? When he is, all he goes on about is how I “never amounted to anything”, and that he can’t believe he raised an “insane son”. Whatever. The only upside to living here is how close I am to Zim’s dumb house._  
  
_Speaking of Zim, he was acting really weird today. He was oddly quiet when he came into the Starbunks (that’s where I work, by the way, for anyone new here). He usually tries to rile me up or get me into some sort of trouble with my manager, but today he just came in and kind of… glared at me? And then left. What's he planning? It looks like I'll have to keep a close eye on him for the next little while. Closer than usual, anyways._  
  
_Until tomorrow, LiveJournal,_  
  
_\- Dib Membrane, Agent Mothman_  
_  
_ #swolleneyeball, #truthshrieker, #zimisanalien

 

* * *

 

_April 7th, Friday_

_agentmothman_se:_

  
_Today was uneventful. Pretty suspicious, if you ask me!_  
  
_Zim came into the store again today. He just did the exact same thing he did yesterday: glared, and then left!  I'm beginning to suspect more and more that he_ **_must_ ** _be planning something_ **_big!_ ** _He's got these heavy bags under his eyes. Does that mean he's been pulling all-nighters or something? I thought he didn't need to sleep? I guess I'll have to double-check my findings..._  
  
_Either way, my “keep an eye on him” plan is even_ **_more_ ** _of a_ **_“GO”_ ** _than it was yesterday! I'm planning to try to sneak into that weird house of his tomorrow, seeing as it’s the weekend and all. The work of a Paranormal Investigator is never done!_  
  
_I'll keep you posted._  
_  
_ \- Dib Membrane, Agent Mothman

 

_#suspiciousalien, #swolleneyeball, #truthshrieker_

 

* * *

 

_April 8th, Saturday_

_agentmothman_se:_

  
_Something is absolutely,_ **_undoubtedly_ ** _going on._  


_I went over to Zim's house, and his gnomes were even_ **_worse_ ** _than usual! I barely got within five feet of the_ **_fence_ ** _and they had targeted me! He_ **_must_ ** _have upped his security for whatever_ **_evil thing_ ** _he's been plotting!_  
  
_I used my binoculars to see if I could catch a glimpse of the_ **_alien menace_ ** _in action. I_ **_did_ ** _see him, but he was just… sitting there. Sitting there on his couch with his weird little robot. Well, more like slumped. He was_ **_slumped_ ** _there on his couch with his weird little robot!_  
  
_Sadly, my binoculars are only so great. They can't see_ **_every_ ** _little detail, so I’m afraid I might have missed out on some important clues. Nonetheless, it_ **_did_ ** _look like those eyebags were getting worse, from what I could see. Maybe he_ **_does_ ** _need to sleep after all? He looks a lot like me that time I stayed up for a week to finish my final paper and started hearing colors._  
  
_I stayed there and watched him for a few hours, but he never moved. So, I decided to set up a camera close enough to see through his window. Looks like his gnomes don't recognize it as a threat, because I set it up just outside his fence and it hasn't been completely destroyed yet. I've got it hooked up to my phone, so I can check in on it whenever or wherever. So far, he hasn't moved much. Went and got a drink about 38 minutes ago, but came back. Strange._  
  
_What are they even watching?_  
  
_I'll keep a lookout for now, and update here if anything else happens. If not, I'll write again tomorrow._  
  
_\- Dib Membrane, Agent Mothman_  
_  
_ #swolleneyeball, #truthshrieker, #zimcamisgo

 

* * *

 

_April 9th, Sunday_

_agentmothman_se:_

  
_I checked the camera I set up outside Zim's base quite a few times today, but nothing has changed. And when I say nothing, I mean_ **_nothing_ ** _._  


_Zim just laid on the couch the entire day. I have no idea what's going on, and I’m honestly started to get a bit concerned. I'm looking at my phone as I type this, and he's still just laying there, with his back to me, curled up in a ball. I’ve never seen this kind of behavior out of him before._  
  
_Does he know I'm watching him? Maybe he’s doing this on purpose in order to throw me off?_  
  
_He's only turned around a couple of times, most of them to talk to GIR (his robot), who I can_ **_hear_ ** _from the camera outside. Other than that, he's just stayed in a fetal position the entire day. I'm not sure if he's been sleeping or not, because I can't see his face, so my "conclusive evidence" that "Zim doesn't sleep" may still be up for debate._  
  
_I guess I'll have to wait and see what happens tomorrow. He seems to really like bothering me at work, so I’m likely to see him there._  
  
_Hopefully._  
  
_More tomorrow._  
  
_\- Dib Membrane, Agent Mothman_  
_  
_ #somethingisup, #swolleneyeball, #truthshrieker

 

* * *

 

_April 11th, Tuesday_

_agentmothman_se:_

 

 _When I woke up this morning and checked the camera, it was offline. Looks like Zim found it. At least that means he left the house this morning, or some time last night. He didn’t come to Starbunks yesterday, and I’ve gotta say, I was a little worried._  
_  
_ He did come in today, though. He looked... Not so good. He's really pale now, and his eyes are really swollen and have dark bags under them. Seems like all that sleeping he did on Sunday didn't help much. If he did sleep, that is.

 

_He actually ordered something today, though: a chamomile tea with honey. He was really polite, just ordered and left. It was a really weird, off-brand interaction, honestly. I saw he was shaking a bit when he got up to the counter, and I could hear his breathing. Is he sick or something?_

 

_This doesn’t feel like an “evil plan” anymore. I think I might try and confront him about it if he comes in tomorrow._

 

_Wish me luck, LiveJournal._

 

_\- Dib Membrane, Agent Mothman_

 

_#canaliensgetsick, #swolleneyeball, #truthshrieker_

 

* * *

 

 

_April 12, Wednesday_

_agentmothman_se:_

 

 _I had a Swollen Eyeball meeting today around dinner time, which couldn’t have been_ **_worse_ ** _timing. Normally this wouldn’t matter, but it was that “one night of the year meal” thing that we do with Dad tonight as well. I decided to skip the meeting this time, because Dad's still pretty mad at me for the whole guinea pig exorcism thing that I did a few weeks ago, so I need to be careful right now. I'm a little afraid that he might actually act on those threats to kick me out if I keep "acting up"._

 

 _As for the Zim situation, today was… interesting. He came in again, wanting another tea. He was all sweaty and looked like he was going to fall over. Had to grip the door when he came in, and then the counter to keep himself up. His face was white. And I mean_ **_white_ ** _. To the point where you couldn’t even tell that he was originally green. While I was making the tea for him, he_ **_puked_ ** _. Like, all over the floor and the bottom of the counter and everything. It was_ **_really_ ** _gross, and my manager threw him out._

 

_I’m not suspicious anymore._

 

_I’m taking the day off work tomorrow, and I’m going to go to his house. Dad’s been working on this cloaking watch that’s supposed to make you virtually invisible to motion detection, so I’m going to see if I can use that against those gnomes of his._

 

 _I don’t even know what I’m going to say when I get up there, if I even_ **_do_ ** _get up there. I guess I’m just kinda worried about the little jerk. Don’t know why. It’s not like he’d care if it was me on his end of things._

 

_Maybe I’ll bring him a chamomile tea._

 

_\- Dib Membrane, Agent Mothman_

 

_#imgettingtothebottomofthis, #swolleneyeball, #truthshrieker_

 

* * *

 

  



	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with the second chapter of Eyes of Blight! This one is actually even SHORTER than the first one, but the others I have written up get longer, I swear! :P 
> 
> I'm having a lot of fun with the whole "post/log made by the character" theme in this fic, so expect that to be a running occurrence! Though I promise it won't take up the entirety of the story!

* * *

 

 

Zim knew that things were changing. He hadn’t intentionally slowed down, but he couldn’t help but find that his motivation was beginning to waver. As Dib grew older, the human’s interest in him seemed to dwindle, and it felt as though Zim wasn’t at the forefront of his mind anymore. He had tried to get the boy’s attention for a while at first, but soon that, too, slowed, and left Zim contemplating his importance. His plans had never worked out, and even with the human out of his way, they still continued to find their own way to fail him. Each new attempt would end up leaving a dent in the alien’s boisterous facade, and cause a decline in the frequency of new schemes.

 

These days, Zim found himself filling in his free time with bothering the human at his place of work, or simply spending time at home with GIR. He had watched and re-watched the same shows and cartoons over and over so many times that he could recite each word, and he could tell you every single item on the Krazy Taco menu by heart. Things really had grown stale and stagnant for the once lively IRKEN. GIR, on the other hand, was fully content with their new way of living. Zim sometimes wished he could be as oblivious as his defunct assistant.

 

Despite this, Zim still reported in loyally each week to the Tallest, in order to give them updates on his mission. Both they and Zim were well aware that the other Invaders had finished their missions years ago, and Operation Impending Doom II was long over. There was even talk of Impending Doom _III_ over the airwaves, though Zim wasn’t entirely sure if that was true. Nevertheless, as loyal as ever, Zim persisted, even when the Tallest expressed _extreme_ displeasure in his continued briefings. No matter how long it took, he was _determined_ to add this planet to the IRKEN EMPIRE’s ever-growing list of conquered worlds. He couldn’t _wait_ to watch from the MASSIVE as they performed the Final Sweep…

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #6,472_

_DATE: 03/28 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 90-SUB6, #526 [FOOD SERVICE]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “ZIM”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// TRANSLATED FROM IRKEN DOOM TO ENGLISH… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_INVADER’S LOG NUMBER SIX-THOUSAND, FOUR-HUNDRED SEVENTY TWO._

 

_I RECEIVED AN UNEXPECTED PACKAGE FROM THE TALLEST TODAY. IT WAS STANDARD-ISSUE, NO PRIORITY FLAGS ATTACHED. I ASSUMED THAT IT WAS THE GIANT MUTANT SHMORGG THAT I REQUESTED SOME TIME AGO, BUT IT WAS MUCH TOO SMALL TO **POSSIBLY** HOUSE SUCH A LARGE AND **WRITHING** BEAST. IN FACT, IT WAS MUCH TOO SMALL TO HOUSE MUCH OF ANYTHING! AND IT DIDN’T! THE BOX WAS COMPLETELY EMPTY WHEN I OPENED IT!_

 

_OF COURSE, I AM NOT ONE TO OVERLOOK THE **GENEROSITY** OF MY ALMIGHTY TALLEST, AND TOOK IT UPON MYSELF TO CALL THEM AND THANK THEM FOR THEIR GIFT. I LET THEM KNOW, HOWEVER, THAT IT SEEMED THAT THE GENEROUS GIFT HAD GOTTEN **LOST** SOME TIME DURING TRAVEL, AND THAT THEY SHOULD PROBABLY FIRE THE MAIL-DRONE THAT HANDLED IT. I SUGGESTED INTO A **SUN** , BUT THAT WILL ULTIMATELY BE THEIR DECISION TO MAKE. _

 

_AH, WELL! I AM SURE THAT WHATEVER IT WAS WOULD HAVE BEEN VERY MUCH APPRECIATED INDEED. IT **WAS** FROM THE TALLEST, AFTER ALL. _

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #6,474_

_DATE: 04/01 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 90-SUB6, #526 [FOOD SERVICE]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “ZIM”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// TRANSLATED FROM IRKEN DOOM TO ENGLISH… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_INVADER’S LOG NUMBER SIX-THOUSAND, FOUR-HUNDRED SEVENTY FOUR._

 

_GIR MADE A RATHER PUZZLING COMMENT WHEN I STEPPED OFF THE ELEVATOR THIS MORNING. I HAVE SPENT THE LAST TWO EARTH-CYCLES DOWN BELOW, WORKING ON MY NEWEST, MOST BRILLIANT PLAN FOR EARTH CONQUEST! HOWEVER, I HAVE LEARNED THAT LEAVING MY SIR UNIT ALONE IN THE BASE FOR TOO LONG CAN BE… **HAZARDOUS** , AND THUS I HAVE MADE IT A HABIT TO CHECK ON HIM NOW AND THEN. _

 

_HE TOLD ME THAT I WAS LOOKING “ALL ICKY”. AS MUCH AS I HATE TO ADMIT IT, HE… MAY HAVE A POINT. I SEEM TO HAVE LOST SOME COLOR IN MY FACE, BUT MORE ALARMINGLY, MY ANTENNAE AS WELL. THEY HAVE DULLED SLIGHTLY, AND FEEL SORE TO THE TOUCH, MUCH LIKE A BRUISE. PERHAPS I HAVE BEEN WORKING TOO LONG. TODAY SEEMS LIKE A GOOD DAY FOR A BREAK._

**_GIR! COME!_ ** _WE ARE GOING FOR A WALK._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #6,477_

_DATE: 04/04 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 90-SUB6, #526 [FOOD SERVICE]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “ZIM”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// TRANSLATED FROM IRKEN DOOM TO ENGLISH… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_INVADER’S LOG NUMBER SIX-THOUSAND, FOUR-HUNDRED SEVENTY SEVEN._

 

_TODAY, I HAVE FOUND THAT I AM FEELING RATHER… LETHARGIC. I AM UNSURE AS TO WHAT COULD HAVE CAUSED THIS, BUT WORKING DOWN BELOW HAS BECOME A CHORE. I THINK THE “ZIPPER THAT CAUSES YOUR JACKET TO EAT YOU” PLAN WILL HAVE TO BE POSTPONED FOR NOW._

 

_I SEEM TO BE LOSING A LITTLE MORE OF MY COLOR EACH EARTH-CYCLE THAT PASSES. MY ANTENNAE ARE BECOMING MORE SENSITIVE, AND I HAVE DEVELOPED SUCH **UGLY** DARK CIRCLES UNDER MY EYES. I THINK WHATEVER IS AILING ME HAS AFFECTED MY OCULAR IMPLANTS AS WELL, AS MY VISION HAS NOT BEEN UP TO STANDARD TODAY. I HAVE CONSIDERED CONTACTING THE TALLEST, BUT I FEAR WHAT THEY MAY SAY AT THE SIGHT OF ME. I WILL HAVE TO MONITOR THIS ON MY OWN UNTIL I CAN FIGURE OUT WHAT IS GOING ON.  _

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #6,478_

_DATE: 04/06 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 90-SUB6, #526 [FOOD SERVICE]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “ZIM”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// TRANSLATED FROM IRKEN DOOM TO ENGLISH… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_INVADER’S LOG NUMBER SIX-THOUSAND, FOUR-HUNDRED SEVENTY EIGHT._

 

_THIS **HAS** TO BE THE **DIB’S** DOING! ZIM CAN SEE NO OTHER POSSIBILITIES. I DO NOT KNOW **HOW** , OR **WHEN** HE COULD HAVE DONE THIS, OR... EVEN WHAT HE HAS DONE, **BUT THAT IS NOT THE POINT!** IF THE **SMELL-BEAST** THINKS THAT HE CAN GET AWAY WITH CAUSING **ZIM** SUCH DISCOMFORT, HE IS **SORELY MISTAKEN!**_

 

_I VISITED THE VILE HUMAN’S PLACE OF WORK TODAY. AS IT IS STANDARD FOR EACH IRKEN INVADER TO BE TRAINED IN HIGH-LEVEL INTIMIDATION, I NO DOUBT STRUCK **FEAR** INTO THE HEART OF THE **DIB** WITH MY TACTICS! I SEE NO POSSIBLE WAY THAT HE COULD **NOT** KNOW THAT I HAVE DECIPHERED HIS HORRIBLE TRICK. HE WILL WRONG ZIM **NO MORE!**_

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #6,480_

_DATE: 04/08 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 90-SUB6, #526 [FOOD SERVICE]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “ZIM”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// TRANSLATED FROM IRKEN DOOM TO ENGLISH… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_INVADER’S LOG NUMBER SIX-THOUSAND, FOUR-HUNDRED EIGHTY._

 

_MY CONDITION… IS WORSENING. NOT ONLY HAVE I CONTINUED TO LOSE COLOR, BUT I HAVE DEVELOPED AN ACHE THAT HAS SPREAD THROUGHOUT MY BODY. I HAVE NOT YET BEEN SUCCESSFUL IN FINDING THE CAUSE, AND IT IS BEGINNING TO… WORRY ME. I HAVE YET AGAIN CONSIDERED CONTACTING MY TALLEST, BUT I CANNOT HELP BUT FEAR THEIR REACTION. I WOULD NOT WANT THEM TO THINK ME UNFIT TO CONTINUE MY MISSION._

 

_MY ANTENNAE HAVE GROWN FAR TOO SORE FOR MY USUAL DISGUISE. I HAVE DECIDED THAT TODAY WILL BE DEDICATED TO REGAINING MY STRENGTH, SO THAT I MAY CONTINUE MY SEARCH FOR ANSWERS. BESIDES, GIR HAS BEEN BEGGING ME TO REWATCH “FLOOPSY BLOOPS SHMOOPSY” WITH HIM FOR THE FOURTH TIME ANYWAYS._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #6,481_

_DATE: 04/09 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 90-SUB6, #526 [FOOD SERVICE]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “ZIM”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// TRANSLATED FROM IRKEN DOOM TO ENGLISH… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_IN...VADER’S LOG NUMBER... SIX-THOUSAND, FOUR-HUNDRED EIGHTY ONE._

 

_SOMETHING IS… WRONG. THE PAIN HAS S… SPREAD. I HAVE BEEN PHYSICALLY UN… UNABLE TO… MOVE. I BELIEVE THAT I AM… DYING. NEED TO… CALL TALLEST._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #6,482_

_DATE: 04/11 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 90-SUB6, #526 [FOOD SERVICE]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “ZIM”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// TRANSLATED FROM IRKEN DOOM TO ENGLISH… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_INVADER’S LOG NUMBER SIX-THOUSAND, FOUR-HUNDRED EIGHTY TWO._

 

_THAT **HORRIBLE, LOATHSOME, BIG-HEADED,** [UNINTELLIGIBLE] **, DIB! HE HAS HAD A… A CAMERA SET UP OUTSIDE MY BASE FOR IRK-KNOWS HOW LONG!**_

 

_AFTER TWO GRUELING, **TERRIBLE** DAYS OF **SUFFERING** , I HAVE F… FINALLY SEEN A LULL IN MY ACHES. IT IS NOT SO MUCH A DEB...ILITATING AGONY ANYMORE, AS IT IS AN AWFUL... STABBING. THAT… IS PROGRESS! THOUGH, BREATHING HAS PROVEN… DIFFICULT, AS OF LATE. _

 

_MUCH TO MY DISMAY, HOWEVER, IT SEEMS TH… THAT I AM OUT OF IRKEN PAIN AIDS, AND I WOULD HAVE TO CON...TACT THE TALLEST IN ORDER TO GET ANOTHER MEDICAL SHIPMENT. I HAVE BEEN COMBING THE H… HUMAN **“INTERNET”** IN ORDER TO FIND SOME KIND OF REMEDY THAT MAY EASE MY… DISCOMFORT FOR NOW. IT SAID THAT A DRINK CALLED… “CAMOMILE TEA” CAN AID ONE’S AILMENTS. I HAVE V… VENTURED OUT TO THE “STAR BUNKS” IN ORDER TO… GET ONE. _

 

_IT IS… NICE._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #6,483_

_DATE: 04/12 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 90-SUB6, #526 [FOOD SERVICE]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “ZIM”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// TRANSLATED FROM IRKEN DOOM TO ENGLISH… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_INVADER’S... LOG... NUMBER SIX-THOUSAND..., FOUR-HUNDRED EIGHTY… THREE._

 

_I THINK… THAT I AM DYING. THIS M… MAY BE MY F… FINAL LOG. I AM GO… GOING TO CONTACT… TALLEST. NEED TO… I NEED TO… CONTACT… TALL..._

 

_// RECORDING ENDED DUE TO INACTIVITY… //_

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter? And WITHOUT a log or journal post in it? IT'S MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK! 
> 
> I'm pretty happy with this chapter overall! I tend to struggle with meeting my own length requirements (I try to at least have 2k words), so this one turned out not too bad in my opinion! This is also where the two characters finally converge and share the spotlight and POV! I can't wait to keep posting new chapters! There is much more to come, as this story is just getting started!

* * *

 

 

Spending the night on the floor had not been kind to Zim. His body was stiff, and ached when he tried to drag himself up from where he had fallen. A small recording device still hung limply from a metal limb, though it had stopped running hours ago. He retracted it back into his PAK, groaning as he rubbed his eyes. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts, to remember what had happened the previous day. His body was shaking, shivering as if it was freezing, though Zim could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. He was almost half tempted to lay back down where he was, and drift off once more…

 

Memories returned slowly. Thoughts of  _ pain _ and  _ camomile tea _ . The IRKEN held his head, and squeezed his eyes shut as his mind tried to clear itself of fog. The world was spinning, and he felt an all-too-familiar lurch in his spooch. He was on the floor again, hunched over his knees, losing anything left inside him. That’s when the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Zim remembered what had happened the day before, when he had visited the human’s place of work. The  _ shame _ , the  _ humiliation _ . He could hear the voices around him, shocked and disgusted. The manager was quick to escort him out. 

 

_ The Tallest _ .  _ They _ would know what was wrong. They would be able to help him! If he could just…  _ call them _ . 

 

Had he had this thought before? He couldn’t recall… 

 

* * *

 

With a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, and a Starbunks cup warming his gloveless hands, Dib made his way towards the strange little green house at the far end of the cul-de-sac. The distinct smell of chamomile soothed his nerves as he walked, and he allowed himself to focus on it’s aroma, and not on the worries that had been chewing away at his thoughts since the day prior. He couldn’t stop thinking about Zim, coming into the store and making a scene. He had looked so utterly  _ small _ and  _ weak _ , and hadn’t even protested when his manager had tossed him out. After watching him over the past week, Dib had a sneaking suspicion that the alien had come down with some sort of flu. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt bad for the little guy. He had seen  _ “War of the Worlds” _ , and he feared the thought of Zim suffering a similar fate. 

 

Approaching the IRKEN’s secret base, Dib paused, a look of confusion crossing his face. He thought he could hear Zim… talking? He knew the alien was  _ loud _ , but not loud enough to hear from the opposite end of the  _ cul-de-sac!  _ Well, maybe if he was  _ outside _ , but the boy couldn’t see that familiar green face anywhere. 

 

Using the cloaking device he had “borrowed” from his Dad’s basement lab, Dib—  _ hopefully— _ made himself invisible to motion tracking. He hadn’t exactly tested the thing yet. Cautiously, he stepped a foot beyond the fence barrier, bracing himself for a gnome-attack… but was met with none. After a quick fist-pump, he hurried up to the front steps. 

 

The talking was louder now. It was almost as if Zim were standing right next to him! Dib scanned the area, and found the right window half-opened. What? Hadn’t Zim upped his security recently? Why would he leave the window open like that? Maybe it was GIR? Either way, the boy, as curious as ever, took the chance to peer in. Standing in the middle of the living room, facing the television, was Zim. He looked  _ terrible _ . Pale face,  _ white _ antennae, dark circles under his swollen and irritated magenta eyes. His form looked to be trembling, and he swayed on his feet, as if he may fall over at any moment. Dib was about to abandon his outpost and knock on the door, when he heard a voice from the television, addressing Zim. Was he talking to his leaders…? Dib craned his neck to get a better look. 

 

“Why are your antennae  _ white?” _ the IRKEN dressed in red asked accusingly, narrowing his crimson eyes, “You look worse than you usually do.” 

 

“Yeah! And it’s usually  _ horrible!” _ the purple-clad royal added in. 

 

“I… am aware of my poor appearance, m… my Tallest.” Zim replied, his voice weak and not nearly as loud and energetic as usual, “That is my reason for contacting you early.” 

 

“You know that we’re  _ very busy _ , don’t you Zim?” Red sat back slightly, crossing his arms in his lap, “We could be missing something  _ very important _ in order to take your call.” 

 

“F…  _ Forgive me _ , my Tallest, but I  _ p-promise _ you, this is… is  _ urgent _ .” the smaller continued, “Zim… fears that something is very…  _ wrong _ . I-I have been growing rather…  _ ill _ .” 

 

“And?” 

 

“And… I have not been able t… to locate a  _ cause _ .” 

 

“And what do you expect us to do about that, hmm?” Red tilted his head, unamused by the drone. 

 

“Well, I… thought that you m… may know what has stricken Zim.” the alien wavered, and staggered back, having to use a PAK leg to keep himself from toppling. 

 

Both IRKEN leaders quirked a brow, and looked at one another. At once, they shared a wicked smile, before turning back towards Zim, their expressions barely hiding their amusement. 

 

“You say you’ve been sick, Zim?” Red asked, “When did this start?” 

 

“I… I believe… a week ago? P-Perhaps two?” a small clawed hand rested against his head, as Zim tried to see through the fog, “Two. Yeah. I-I think.” 

 

“ _ Interesting _ .” Red’s poorly-hidden smile only grew, “And what are your symptoms?” 

 

“A-Aches.  _ Horrible aches…” _ Zim shuddered, “L… Losing color. Pale. Zim is… pale. And my antennae are… are  _ white _ .” wait, they had addressed that already, hadn’t they? He couldn’t remember, “C-Cold. Shivering. But… face is hot. S-Spoochaches, and—“ 

 

“Oh,  _ Zim _ ,” Red interrupted, leaning back slightly. He had a forced look of worry on his face, a two-clawed hand held up to his mouth, “this is  _ very _ bad.” 

 

“Oh, yeah!  _ Super _ bad!” Purple echoed, before snickering, though he attempted to hide it behind his own hand. 

 

“W-What?!” Zim’s eyes widened, and jumped from Tallest to Tallest,  _ “What is bad?!”  _

 

“Zim, it sounds like you have a  _ very old _ IRKEN illness. There hasn’t been a case in many,  _ many _ meeps!” 

 

“But… But you can c-cure it… can you not?” 

 

“That’s just the thing, Zim! There  _ is _ no known cure!” Red threw his hands up for dramatic effect. The action startled his partner, who dropped the bag of popcorn he had been munching on prior to beginning the call. He grumbled, and rested his chin on his hand. 

 

Dib, the peeping Tom, froze. Was this true? Zim had some kind of weird incurable alien sickness? Did that mean he was going to… 

 

“W—  **_What?!_ ** But— my Tallest! There must be s… some mistake!” Zim exclaimed, desperation evident in both his tone and expression, “What about my m-mission!” 

 

“Oh,  _ Zim _ .” Red shook his head, a dark chuckle bubbling up from his throat, “ _ Listen _ . I’m only telling you this because we’re probably never going to hear from you again, and I  _ kinda _ want to see your reaction before you die.” 

 

The little faux-Invader watched as the IRKEN royal paused to pick a soda up off of a table-headed service drone. He took a sip, lounging comfortably in his seat. 

 

“You never  _ had _ a mission, Zim.” he began again, “You were  _ supposed _ to stay banished to FOODCOURTIA, but when you couldn’t even get  _ that _ right, we decided sending you off to your own demise would be a better suited end for a little  **_pain in the neck_ ** like you.” 

 

Red took a moment to calm himself, holding a hand up and breathing slowly, before continuing, 

 

“ **_Somehow_ ** , you managed to find a  _ planet _ on the course of dead space we sent you on. We’ve been supplying you with the odd snack ration to see how long you’d survive out there on your own. But of course, you’ve been more trouble than entertainment for us,  _ as per usual.” _

 

“But…  _ my Tallest _ , Zim can—“ 

 

“ _ No _ , Zim. Whatever you’re about to say, you  _ can’t _ . You are  _ incapable _ of doing  _ anything _ that does not either  _ blow up _ or get  _ someone else killed _ . We have been  _ trying _ to get rid of you for  _ years _ , and yet,  _ here you are! Still _ trying to  _ torture _ us with your presence!” 

 

“I-I—“ 

 

“You’re  _ useless _ , Zim. Tiny, destructive, and  _ defective _ . This? Your whole…  _ sickness… _ thing? This is the  _ best thing that could have ever happened to us.” _

 

“Now we don’t have to kill you  _ ourselves!” _ Purple cheerfully exclaimed, before stuffing his face with popcorn from a fresh bag. 

 

“We’re not going to help you, Zim. In fact, do us a favour, and forget this transmission signal. Alright? M’kay.  _ Buh-bye _ now.” 

 

Darkness washed over Zim as the screen went black. He just stood for a moment, magenta eyes staring blankly ahead, mouth hung slightly agape. Had… this all been some kind of fever-induced hallucination? It had to be! There was no way this was real! 

 

“C— Computer!” he squeaked, his voice cracking, “Call the Tallest back!  _ Q-Quickly!” _

 

“Uh… are you sure?” a disembodied voice answered, uncertainty in its tone.

 

**_“OF COURSE I AM SURE!_** _CALL THEM BA—“_ the IRKEN’s voice was cut off as he doubled over with coughs, pressing a hand to his chest. He groaned, sickly white antennae flattening back against his head, _“C-Call them back.”_

 

Static masked the sound of a human squeezing through an open window, and boots hitting the floor. Zim stood, his small body shaking with both illness and anxiety, staring with desperation at the blank screen. He  _ needed _ this mission. He needed to know that he was  _ worth _ something, that there was someone he could strive to  _ please _ . Without the Tallest, without his directive, what was he? Nothing. Worthless.  _ Useless _ . 

 

_ “...Zim?”  _

 

Wide magenta eyes whipped around, wildly searching for whoever had spoken. A boy stood near to his right side, familiar spiked hair giving way to his identity. Zim’s small body stiffened, and he took a step back. His expression was as hard as one so sickly could manage, though it held a hint of fear. 

 

**_“YOU!”_ ** he shouted, _ “H-How did you _ —  _ WHERE _ did you— h-how—  _ HOW MUCH DID YOU HEAR?!”  _

 

“Zim, your window was  _ wide open.”  _ Dib explained, taking on a rather uncharacteristically softened tone, “I could hear you talking down the street. I… heard  _ all of it.” _

 

“Wh— _ IT WAS NOT!” _ the alien insisted, though his expression had faltered. That fear was peeking through, showing its ugly face through the cracks, “Z-Zim has… has executed  _ extra sec… urity parameters!  _ It wouldn’t h… have been—!” 

 

The alien staggered, swaying on his feet. He had to reach a clawed hand out and grab hold of the arm of his couch in order to keep himself from toppling over completely. Dib instinctively took a step forwards, hands extending to catch him if he were to fall. The boy pulled them back again, however, when Zim flinched away. 

 

_ “S-STAY BACK!” _ he growled, “You… You heard  _ NOTHING! _ It was— w-was a  _ TRICK!  _ Zim  _ knew _ you were th… there all…  _ ALONG!  _ And I…  _ you _ …” his free hand raised to hold his head, and the last of his color seemed to drain out onto the floor. Dib took another step forwards, worry beginning to creep over him. 

 

“Hey, Zim, just— just take it easy…” 

 

“Get…  _ Get away _ f… from…” Zim groaned, unfocused magenta eyes looking upwards, their usually brilliant color now dulled and lacking shine, “Wh… Where there always…  _ two of you?” _ he croaked, before his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor of his base.

 

* * *

 

Carrying Zim was like carrying nothing at all. The little guy was so light, and so  _ small _ . Dib could barely believe that this was the  _ “horrible alien menace”  _ he had been fighting against for so many years. In his arms now, so pale and sickly, the human felt as though he could  _ break _ him if he moved the wrong way. 

 

The trek back to his own home had been tense, and full of fear and anxiety. Zim’s breath came in wheezes, and he was shaking like a leaf in the boy’s hold. Dib was honestly afraid the IRKEN may expire before he even reached the front steps. When he did enter his house, he wasted no time running up to his bedroom, where he wrapped Zim in as many blankets as he could find, and set him up on his bed in a nest of pillows. He didn’t know what else to do. He had watched individuals on television dab a sick person’s head with a cool cloth, but he feared he may end up burning the poor alien’s skin with the water. Hydrating him was out of the question as well, for the same reason. Though, he  _ did _ still have that chamomile tea… 

 

In the end, all the boy could do was  _ sit _ and  _ watch _ and  _ wait _ . And so he did. 

 

A few hours passed before Zim stirred, and Dib had begun to doze at his computer. A recent Boogle search still shone white light over his face:  _ “how to care for a sick person” _ . This was one of many similar searches that Dib had been scouring, hoping to find something that may aid him. However, it seemed that caring for a sick  _ person _ and caring for a sick  _ alien _ were two very different things. A lot of these things would only work to make Zim  _ worse _ , not better. 

 

Soft grumbling could be heard from inside the mound of blankets. Dib stood from his chair, and made his way to the bed, which he knelt beside. Carefully, he reached forwards, lifting the edge of one of the blankets to peer in at Zim’s sickly pale face. The alien hissed, and flinched back from the light, hiding his face away in the fabric. Dib frowned. 

 

“Zim?” he pressed, keeping his voice low, “Hey, can you look at me?” 

 

Zim just gave another small groan, and didn’t move. He was still shivering, causing his wheezing breaths to shudder. 

 

“Come on, Zim. I need you to look at me.” 

 

“G… Go…  _ ‘way… _ ” 

 

Well, at least it was  _ something _ . 

 

The sound of the alien’s voice sent a wave of relief through Dib’s body, and he felt his tense muscles relax some. He knew they were far from being out of the woodwork, but he felt that if Zim was well enough to speak, there was still hope. 

 

“Sorry, Space Boy, I can’t do that.” Dib offered a lopsided smile, “Seeing as you’re in  _ my house _ , I think you’re going to be stuck with me for a while.” 

 

That got Zim’s attention. He finally shifted, raising his head just slightly to attempt to take in his surroundings. He squinted in the light, grimacing as though it pained him, as he looked around. The  _ Dib _ was  _ right _ . This wasn’t his base at all! Fear suddenly began to spread through the IRKEN’s body.  _ He had been captured! _ Dib had  _ caught _ him while he was  _ weak _ and now there was  _ nothing _ he could do! With a squeak, Zim buried himself a little deeper within the blankets, still a little groggy and misguided. 

 

“L… Leave Z…  _ Zim be…!”  _ he croaked, “Do n… not  _ h-hurt—!” _

 

Dib frowned, finding himself reaching a hand out once more, though he retracted it yet again. He wanted to reassure the frightened alien, but he felt that touching him would most likely do more  _ harm _ than  _ good _ . 

 

“Zim,  _ easy! _ I’m not going to hurt you.” he insisted, opting to try and talk the little guy down some, “You  _ collapsed _ back at your base, you scared the  _ shit _ out of me! I thought you had  _ died _ or something!” 

 

Silence was all that Dib received in return. 

 

“Listen, I’ve known you were sick for over a week now. You’ve looked  _ terrible _ , Zim. Been acting  _ strange _ . Uh… stranger than usual.” the human rested his cheek on his hands, frowning at the pile of shivering blankets, “When you threw up yesterday I knew for sure something was seriously  _ wrong _ . But… I didn’t know it was… y’know, some  _ incurable alien disease _ , or something.” 

 

“You d… do not…  _ care _ . About  _ Z… Zim.”  _ the alien’s voice was hoarse, and sounded pained. 

 

“Hey! You don’t know that…” Dib shot back, raising his head once more. Though, the boy couldn’t blame Zim. The two of them had never truly seen eye-to-eye, nor had he shown any interest in the alien’s well-being before. In all honesty, Dib wasn’t entirely sure why he cared  _ now _ . But he  _ did _ .

 

Now that the prospect of Zim’s life coming to an end was more of a reality than ever before, the human couldn’t help but feel his chest begin to ache each time he thought about it. After 9 years, how could he live a life without Zim in it? How could he keep going, knowing that Zim was gone, and would never come back? He didn’t think he could. 

 

“Zim, listen,” he began, frowning as he pointed his gaze at his hands, “I’m… sorry. For being an awful kid. I… can’t say I agree with your plans for my planet, but I never did…  _ ask _ you what your intentions were.” a pause, “Look, my point is, I want to  _ help _ you. I don’t really understand it yet myself, but… Y-You’ve gotta stay alive. Okay? I need you to be alive.” 

 

Silence. 

 

“...  _ Zim?” _

 

“I… a-am g… going t… to  _ die.”  _ the alien’s voice was so quiet, Dib nearly missed it. 

 

**_“No!_ ** You— You’re  _ not! _ Not if I can help it!” 

 

“T… Tallest said—“ 

 

“I don’t  **_care_ ** what your leaders said! Your leaders are  _ assholes _ , and  _ cowards! Both of them!”  _

 

More silence.

 

“... Zim, there  _ must _ be something I can do for you.  _ Anything!” _

 

Dib swore he could go mad in the silence. Waiting for Zim to answer was  _ torturous _ , and the boy wished he could  _ force _ the answers out of him. However, he knew the IRKEN was struggling. Be it with his militaristic pride, or his own weakened body. Finally, as Dib readied himself to press further, Zim spoke. 

 

“... There’s… n’IRKEN… medical planet.” he mumbled, shifting under the many blankets. A small hiss of pain could be heard, before he continued, “C… Could…  _ ergh _ … help.  _ M-Maybe _ .” 

 

“Do you know the coordinates?” 

 

“Mhm.” 

  
Dib stood suddenly, “Then we’re going.  _ Right now.” _


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I was finished with the "journal/log" theme? THINK AGAIN FRIENDS... 
> 
> I really like this chapter! I enjoyed writing that last log specifically. They are... BONDING...

* * *

 

 

_“It is called MEDICINA. But i-it is… weeks away from your… planet.”_

 

_“Then I guess we don’t have any time to waste, do we?”_

 

Convincing Zim to take Tak’s old Spittle Runner went far smoother than Dib had anticipated. The alien had _started_ to protest, _insisting_ that using stolen IRKEN property was against Invader regulation, but hadn’t gotten far. He found himself far too weak to put up much of a fuss, and only managed to wind himself. In the end, Dib laid Zim in the back of the old re-painted ship, bundled up in a few blankets, and climbed into the cockpit.

 

It had been a good, long while since the human had piloted this vessel. As his nemesis had begun to slow down, and his own life had continued forwards, he found that space battles and joyrides didn’t come around as often as they once had. Zim’s plans just weren’t as extravagant anymore, and most of the time, they could easily be thwarted from the safety of Earth. A lot of the time, Dib barely had to lift a finger for them to come crashing down. He had learned that Zim’s plans were often doomed to fail from the start, and his own interception did little in the long run.

 

Dib grasped the joystick-like controls, his hand flexing, recovering old muscle memory. Through the years, the boy had tinkered with the ship, learned about its ins and outs, learned to pilot it rather well. The on-board artificial Tak still spat its remarks, but it had become rather helpless to disobey. Tak wasn’t coming back for it. It _would_ be sad, if the ship was programmed to feel.

 

Taking one more quick look back at the alien nestled safely in the back, Dib couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity that caused his chest to ache. _How did this happen to you, Zim…?_

 

“Just _hang in there,_ Space Boy.” Dib told him, turning back to face the windscreen, _“I’m gonna fix this.”_

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,274_

_DATE: 04/13 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER ONE._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY 11:38PM ON THE THIRTEENTH OF APRIL BACK ON EARTH. I’M USING THE LOGGING SYSTEM HERE ON BOARD THE SHIP THAT I **ACQUIRED** FROM TAK IN ORDER TO KEEP SOME CAPTAIN’S LOGS. YOU KNOW, LIKE A RECORD OF MY JOURNEY AND ALL THAT. _

 

_RIGHT NOW, I’M ON COURSE TO AN IRKEN-OWNED PLANET CALLED “MEDICINA”. ACCORDING TO ZIM, IT’S A PLANET DEDICATED TO TREATING SICK ALIENS. MOSTLY OTHER IRKEN. NEITHER OF US ARE SURE IF ANYONE THERE WILL BE ABLE TO HELP HIM, BUT I’M HOLDING OUT HOPE THAT THERE MIGHT BE._

 

_…EVEN THOUGH HIS LEADERS SAID WHATEVER HE’S GOT IS **‘INCURABLE.’**_

 

_I’M NOT SURE HOW LONG THIS TRIP IS GOING TO TAKE, BUT THANKFULLY I ALWAYS KEEP THIS SHIP STOCKED WITH NON-PERISHABLES AND WATER. AS FOR A BATHROOM SITUATION, WELL… I DIDN’T THINK THAT FAR AHEAD. I’M SURE I’LL FIGURE SOMETHING OUT._

 

_THANKFULLY, AFTER PUNCHING IN THE COORDINATES ZIM GAVE ME, I’VE BEEN ABLE TO LEAVE THE SHIP ON AUTO-PILOT, SO I CAN GO ABOUT DOING… WHATEVER I WANT TO, REALLY. I HAVEN’T GOTTEN BORED OF WATCHING THE STARS YET. I DON’T THINK I EVER WILL._

 

_IT’S GETTING AWFULLY LATE, THOUGH, AND HONESTLY TODAY’S BEEN PRETTY WILD. I THINK I’M GOING TO TAKE A HINT FROM ZIM AND TRY TO GET SOME SHUTEYE. I’LL TRY AND MAKE CONTINUOUS LOGS WHILE I’M UP HERE. GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO._

 

_THIS HAS BEEN DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,275_

_DATE: 04/14 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER TWO._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY 4:28AM ON THE FOURTEENTH OF APRIL BACK ON EARTH._

 

_I’VE BEEN TRYING TO SLEEP OFF AND ON ALL NIGHT, BUT I’M FINDING IT PRETTY HARD TO GET MY MIND OFF OF EVERYTHING. IT’S SUPER QUIET HERE ON THE SHIP, AND I CAN HEAR ZIM WHEEZING IN THE BACK. I WISH I COULD… **DO** SOMETHING, YOU KNOW? I HATE FEELING SO **STUPID** AND **HELPLESS**. I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND WHY I’M FEELING THIS WAY AT ALL! I MEAN, I USED TO **HATE** ZIM! I MEAN— I **DO** HATE ZIM! HE’S AN ALIEN **MENACE** HELLBENT ON **DESTROYING EARTH!**_

 

_OR, Y’KNOW. HE **WAS** … _

 

_… **FUCK** , WHO AM I TRYING TO KID? I DON’T **HATE** ZIM. I **WANT** TO HATE ZIM, BUT… I DON’T THINK I’VE HATED HIM FOR **YEARS**. _

 

_YOU KNOW, WHEN I WAS A KID, THE ONLY THING I EVER WANTED WAS SOLID **PROOF** OF SOMETHING PARANORMAL. SOMETHING THAT WAS CONCRETE. SOMETHING THAT WOULD HELP ME TO FEEL THAT— THAT I WASN’T CRAZY. I HAD SEEN A LOT OF THINGS— **THOUGHT** I SAW A LOT OF THINGS— BUT I WAS NEVER… **SURE**. _

 

_BUT WHEN ZIM ARRIVED, IT TURNED INTO… **PROVING** MYSELF. I HAD TO MAKE EVERYONE **BELIEVE** THAT WHAT I WAS SAYING WAS TRUE! MAKE THEM BELIEVE I WASN’T JUST SOME **NUTJOB** THAT THEY COULD TOSS AROUND. I— I JUST WANTED SOMEONE TO **BELIEVE IN ME.**_

 

_I… GUESS WE HAD THAT IN COMMON. I THINK. ZIM WAS SO **STRESSED OUT** WHEN HIS LEADERS HUNG UP ON HIM, IT… HIT **WAY** TOO CLOSE TO HOME. _

 

_SO WHAT IF HE’S NOT AN INVADER? HE CAUSED AN AWFUL LOT OF CHAOS BACK ON EARTH! THAT’S GOT TO COUNT FOR SOMETHING, RIGHT? DOES HE REALLY DESERVE TO JUST… **DIE?**_

 

_… I’M GOING TO TRY AND GET SOME MORE SLEEP._

 

_THIS HAS BEEN DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,276_

_DATE: 04/15 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER THREE._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY 5:53PM ON THE FIFTEENTH OF APRIL BACK ON EARTH._

 

_SPACE IS… WOW. IT’S… AMAZING. I MEAN, **REALLY** AMAZING. EVERY TIME I’VE EVER COME UP HERE, IT WAS ALWAYS FOR SOME DUMB **BATTLE** AGAINST ZIM. TENSION WAS ALWAYS HIGH, THERE WAS NEVER ANY TIME TO ACTUALLY **LOOK** AT ANYTHING. NOW, I’VE SEEN SO MANY STARS I FEEL LIKE I COULD RECREATE ONE MYSELF. WE AREN’T OUT OF OUR OWN GALAXY YET, BUT WE’VE PASSED **SIX** OUT OF OUR NINE PLANETS SO FAR— **SIX!** IN **THREE DAYS!** CAN YOU **BELIEVE** IT?! ZIM WASN’T EXAGGERATING, IRKEN TECHNOLOGY REALLY **IS** SOMETHING… _

 

_AND ZIM… ZIM IS GETTING WORSE. HE HASN’T SAID MUCH OVER THE PAST FEW DAYS. DOESN’T HAVE A LOT OF ENERGY, I GUESS. HE’S CALLED ME A FEW NAMES, TOSSED A FEW INSULTS, BUT NOT MUCH ELSE. HE USUALLY JUST ENDS UP SLEEPING, OR JUST… **LAYING** THERE. THAT WHEEZING I WAS TALKING ABOUT IS GETTING WORSE, TOO. I’M KINDA WORRIED HE MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO BREATHE SOON. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO IF THAT HAPPENS? _

 

_I… I’VE BEEN FIGHTING ZIM FOR NINE YEARS NOW, AND MY END GOAL WAS ALWAYS TO CAPTURE HIM AND HAND HIM OVER TO THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL FOR AUTOPSY. BUT, SEEING HIM LAYING ON THE FLOOR OF HIS BASE, ALL WHITE AND SICKLY AND WEAK, AND AFTER LISTENING TO HIS LEADERS LAUGH IN HIS FACE AND LEAVE HIM FOR DEAD, I JUST…  COULDN’T DO IT. I JUST **COULDN’T**. I NEED THIS STUPID ALIEN. I **HATE IT,** BUT I **NEED** HIM. HE’S THE ONLY THING I HAVE ON THIS SHITTY PLANET THAT ACTUALLY MOTIVATES ME ANYMORE. _

 

_ZIM WAS JUST SO… **SMALL**. WHEN I HELD HIM. HE HASN’T GROWN AT ALL SINCE I FIRST MET HIM, AND JUST… FITS IN MY ARMS LIKE A KID. CARRYING HIM FELT SO **SURREAL** , KNOWING WHAT HE’S CAPABLE OF. KNOWING I USED TO BE SO EVENLY MATCHED AGAINST HIM… _

 

_YOU KNOW, I’VE NEVER STOPPED TO ACTUALLY **LOOK** AT HIM BEFORE? I MEAN **REALLY** LOOK AT HIM. EVERY TIME I HAD EVER ENCOUNTERED HIM, I WAS ALWAYS IN SOME KIND OF **FIGHT** WITH THE GUY. NEVER REALLY HAD TIME TO STOP AND LOOK. AND EVEN WHEN I **DID** TRY AND GATHER DATA, GETTING CLOSE ENOUGH TO ZIM WAS NEXT TO **IMPOSSIBLE**. BUT AT MY HOUSE, HE WAS JUST… **STILL**. CALM AND QUIET. A-AND I WAS HOLDING HIM THE ENTIRE DRIVE BACK TO MY PLACE… _

 

_HIS SKIN IS REALLY SOFT. LIKE, **SUPER** SOFT. IT WAS ALSO PRETTY COLD, BUT I’M NOT REALLY SURE IF IT’S **ALWAYS** LIKE THAT. HE HASN’T BEEN ABLE TO STOP SHIVERING, SO HE MIGHT JUST HAVE CHILLS… HIS ANTENNAE HAVE THESE LITTLE HAIRS ON THEM, BUT THEY’RE NOT PRICKLY. THEY’RE ACTUALLY PRETTY SMOOTH, TOO. ARE THE HAIRS FOR SENSORY PURPOSES…? _

 

**_[SHUFFLING]_ **

**_[INDISTINGUISHABLE]_ **

 

_AH, I THINK ZIM’S WAKING UP. I SHOULDN’T BE TALKING SO MUCH WHILE HE’S TRYING TO SLEEP. I’M GOING TO END THIS LOG HERE._

 

_THIS HAS BEEN DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,281_

_DATE: 04/23 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER EIGHT._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY 9:17AM ON THE TWENTY THIRD OF APRIL BACK ON EARTH._

 

_WE’VE BEEN TRAVELLING FOR ROUGHLY TEN DAYS NOW. I’M NOT SURE HOW LONG IT’S GOING TO TAKE TO GET TO MEDICINA, BUT I REMEMBER ZIM SAYING IT WAS WEEKS AWAY. I’M HOPING HE MEANT A ‘FEW WEEKS’ AND NOT… A **LOT** OF WEEKS. I’D PREFER NOT TO SPEND THE REST OF MY YOUNG ADULT LIFE STUCK IN THIS CRAMPED SPITTLE RUNNER. I DIDN’T TELL MY DAD I WAS LEAVING, EITHER… OH BOY. _

 

_… AND I’M NOT SURE HOW MUCH TIME ZIM HAS LEFT._

 

_I’M… STARTING TO GET **REALLY** WORRIED ABOUT HIM. THINGS JUST KEEP GETTING WORSE. HE’S GONE **REALLY** QUIET, EXCEPT FOR THE WHEEZING I MENTIONED. EVERY TIME I LOOK BACK AT HIM, HE’S CURLED UP IN A LITTLE BALL SHAKING LIKE **HELL**. NO MATTER WHAT I SAY TO HIM, HE EITHER **DOESN’T REPLY** OR JUST **MUMBLES** SOME DOCILE ANSWER IN THIS **HORRIBLE, PAINFUL-SOUNDING** VOICE. DOESN’T EVEN **TRY** TO INSULT ME ANYMORE. IT’S NOT… **RIGHT!**_

 

**_[SHUFFLING]_ **

**_[INDISTINGUISHABLE]_ **

 

_I THINK HE’S HAVING PRETTY SEVERE ABDOMINAL PAIN, TOO. HE KEEPS CLUTCHING HIS STOMACH AND DIGGING HIS CLAWS IN. I’M NOT USED TO SEEING HIM GRIMACE THE WAY HE HAS BEEN, AND HIS PITIFUL WHIMPERING SOUNDS MAKE ME FEEL SICK. … I DON’T LIKE LOOKING BACK THERE ANYMORE._

 

_I’M HONESTLY **COMPLETELY FREAKING OUT.** I’M AFRAID THAT ZIM ISN’T GOING TO LAST MUCH LONGER. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO IF HE… **DIES** … BEFORE WE EVEN **REACH** THE MEDICAL PLANET? I JUST… WISH I COULD **DO** SOMETHING! I HATE BEING SO **STUPID** AND **USELESS!** I JUST HAVE TO SIT BACK AND… LET HIM **SUFFER!** _

 

**_GOD_ ** _, ZIM. WHY COULDN’T YOU HAVE JUST KEPT ON BEING A LITTLE **MENACE?** WHY COULDN’T WE HAVE JUST KEPT **FIGHTING** LIKE WHEN WE WERE KIDS? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO **DO** THIS? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO MAKE ME **CARE** ABOUT YOU?! _

 

**_[SHUFFLING]_ **

 

**_QUIIEEET…_ **

 

_OKAY, OKAY. I’M DONE, ZIM, I’M DONE. I WAS JUST, UH… TALKING TO MYSELF._

 

**_[INDISTINGUISHABLE]_ **

 

_TAKE IT EASY, SPACE BOY. GO BACK TO SLEEP._

 

**_[INDISTINGUISHABLE]_ **

 

_H-HEY, YOU OKAY BACK THERE?_

 

_ZIM?_

 

**_PAAAIIIN… PAAIIN…_ **

 

_I… I KNOW, BUD. YOUR STOMAC— UH… **SQUEEDILYSPOOCH** HURTS? _

 

**_[INDISTINGUISHABLE]_ **

 

_OKAY, JUST… TRY AND TAKE IT EASY._

 

**_[INDISTINGUISHABLE]_ **

 

_WANT TO COME UP HERE WITH ME FOR A BIT?_

 

**_HUUURTSS…_ **

 

_COME UP HERE, ZIM._

 

_C’MON, THERE WE GO._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  

* * *

 

 

Dib had never been so frightened in his entire life. As Zim’s health deteriorated, so did the human’s certainty. He was so sure that any day now, Zim would simply drift back to sleep, and never wake up. The little alien had begun to let the boy hold him, his pride a long forgotten memory. He would press his face against Dib’s chest, as if desperately seeking warmth. His skin was frigid to the touch, and Dib kept the blankets wrapped tightly around the IRKEN’s tiny body in a vain attempt to quell his violent shivering. He kept promising that they would get there soon, that everything would be fine once they did. He didn’t know if he was trying to reassure Zim, or himself. Either way, it wasn’t working.

 

Nearly four weeks passed before the first neon sign glinted off of Dib’s glasses, waking him from a shallow sleep. He blinked in the light, grumbling and sitting up a little. Zim was nestled in the human’s arms; something that had become rather common for the two during their journey. The alien’s white antennae twitched, and he grimaced, but made no other sound.

 

_“Wha…”_ Dib rubbed his eyes, before taking another look.

 

A bright red planet stood before them, its surface full of the clutter that had become a staple of IRKEN-owned worlds. Scattered buildings and more loud neon signs could be seen from miles away, and ships of all sizes bustled about the place. Its two moons had been converted into nothing more than places to anchor two oversized arrows, pointing travellers towards their destination. Even though all of the bold, blinking letters were in proud IRKEN DOOM, the symbol that littered the signs was enough to fill the boy with a renewed excitement; a triangular representation of an IRKEN’s face, with a circle cut out of its middle. Positioned inside the circular void, was a medical cross.

 

_“ZIM!”_ he exclaimed, sitting up straight, “Zim, _we’re here! Do you see?!”_

 

Dib tried to turn the alien’s attention towards the windscreen, as the ship’s autopilot carried them closer to the medical planet. Zim, however, did not respond. He simply continued to wheeze, and to shiver. The boy frowned, looking up once more at the planet’s crimson surface. It felt so close, and yet so painfully far away.

 

A hand grabbed the Spittle Runner’s controls, slamming them forwards with _possibly_ a little more force than was needed.

 

_“Easy_ on the hardware, you absolute _barbarian!”_ Tak’s voice hissed through the ship’s speakers. But Dib had no time to banter with his snarky stolen property. He was too busy accelerating, plunging the little ship through the planet’s atmosphere. He needed to find someone, _anyone_ who could cure Zim, and he couldn’t waste a second more.

 

“Welcome to _MEDICINA_. I _do_ hope you both die. _Sincerely.”_

 


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm extremely excited to post this chapter, as the real plot that I've been building up to is about to begin! I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> I'd also like to thank everyone for the great feedback I've been receiving! It really helps to motivate me to move forward with this project, knowing that there are people out there reading and enjoying! So, to those of you who have read, left kudos, favorites, or commented, THANK YOU so very much!

* * *

 

 

MEDICINA was an _extremely_ overcrowded planet-- a fact that became more apparent to Dib as he attempted to dock the Spittle Runner. Thankfully, the IRKEN symbol on the side of the ship gave him priority, and he soon found a suitable place to land. This was the first time he was _glad_ he hadn’t been fully able to scratch Tak’s insignia off of the vessel.

 

Stepping out into the docking hub gained Dib quite a few sideways glances from nearby aliens-- both IRKEN and others alike. However, a quick peek at the bundle in his arms made most curious IRKEN recoil in horror, and everyone else give him clear passage. Dib found that most IRKEN that saw Zim had the same reaction-- first suspicion, followed by horror, ending with covering their mouths or fleeing, or _both_. A similar reaction accompanied the two into the planet’s main square, where a plethora of tall, colorful buildings and busy streets stretched off into the distance. Most had the same IRKEN medical symbol emblazoned somewhere on their faces, if not on bold neon signs outside or hung above their doors. Those practices run by other races had their own symbols present, most likely to point their kin to where they may find aid. Dib rushed into the first building he saw, which just so happened to be IRKEN-run. He pleaded desperately with the IRKEN medical drones stationed there, holding the blanket-wrapped Zim out for them to see. They all gave the human the same response. The moment they leaned in to peer at their potential patient, their faces were overcome with fear. Some even squeaked or shouted as they jerked back, but all of them quickly covered their mouths and shook their heads, speaking in frantic IRKEN DOOM as they pointed desperately towards the door.

 

It was then that Dib realised two things: one, being that these medical drones most likely knew exactly what was ailing Zim, and about how apparently _“dangerous”_ and _“incurable”_ it was. Two, being that ** _Dib didn’t speak IRKEN DOOM._**

 

“Wait, _no!_ I can’t _leave!_ He’s _dying_ , you have to _help_ him!”

 

Angry chirps and clicks fell on deaf human ears, Dib helplessly unable to understand. The more he pushed, the harder the medics pushed back, until the duo stood in front of two closed-- and _very much locked--_ front doors. The human didn’t even bother trying to get back in, and instead took off running to the next closest building.

 

Misfortune seemed to cling to the pair, as similar scenes played out from building to building. No IRKEN medics would dare to touch Zim, and those practices run by other races simply refused, no doubt already aware of the virus’ incurable nature. Dib’s unfortunate language barrier didn’t help his case, and Zim had grown far too sick to speak. The boy was unsure if Zim was even aware anymore, as he didn’t move much at all now.

 

Word spread fast in such a crowded square, and soon, roads had begun to clear of alien bodies, doors had begun to lock. Those that still wandered the area would shriek and scatter at the sight of the human, in a desperate attempt to get away from the contagious IRKEN. Signs written in alien languages were hung in windows, in front of shades drawn, no doubt declaring their closure. In the span of a day, MEDICINA had gone from bustling to barren. Despite this, Dib still ran frantically from practice to practice, banging on each door, pulling each handle, yelling and pleading for someone, _anyone_ , to help him. Not a single soul stepped forward. The entire _planet_ was on lockdown. Quarantined. Hiding away from _them_.

 

As the final door failed to open, failed to give way to Dib’s frantic tugging, the human felt a heavy wave of dread wash over him. He felt _sick_. This was _it_. Their _only_ chance had fallen through, slipped through his fingers. Dib pressed his back against the door, sliding down onto the steps. His glasses began to fog as his face grew red, and tears made his vision swim. He sniffed, looking down at the IRKEN still cradled in his arms, droplets falling onto his lenses.

 

_“Zim…”_ he croaked, “I’m so _sorry.”_

 

Dib held the bundle close to his body, arms wrapped tightly around the alien’s trembling frame. Zim’s wheezing was accompanied by the human’s sniffling and hiccupping.

 

“You can’t-- you can’t _die!_ I _need_ you, Zim! You’re all I have! Everyone _hates_ me! They think I’m a _freak!_ Y-- You’re the only one that has ever _validated_ me! Ever-- Ever _motivated_ me! I don’t _care_ what your leaders said! You’re not _useless_ , Zim! You-- You’re a _good_ Invader! You _are!_ I…!”

 

Dib reached up and rubbed at his eyes, trying to dry the tears that refused to cease falling. He knew he was rambling now, but he couldn’t stop himself. Everything was spilling out at once, and it was hard to mend the floodgates once they had broken. The alien only grimaced in pain, a small whine escaping him. Another bout of sobs wracked the human’s body, and he hunched over the bundle, holding it so that he may hide his face against it.

 

“I-I _promise_ , I’ll never try to hurt you again! You can _have_ Earth! You-- You can _have_ it! Just _don’t die!_ _Please_ , Zim! _Please don’t die!”_

 

Dib didn’t know how he would ever go on in a world without Zim. After 9 years, he couldn’t even imagine the little alien not being around, not being there to constantly torment and test him. As much as Dib hated to admit it, his other paranormal hobbies had ended up taking a back seat, in favor of a certain little green kid. Bigfeets and Chupacabra just didn’t seem as important as the real living, breathing alien that menaced his town. How could he possibly return to chasing clues and hope? How could he go back to late nights filled with nothing, and quiet weekends listening to the faint music of a party next door. One he could only dream of being invited to. How could he go back to wishing he had been born _normal?_

 

_“Don’t leave me alone…”_

 

Neither human nor IRKEN had noticed the sound of approaching footsteps. Boots collided with sleek IRKEN-made pavement, their steps overlapping one another, as if they moved in a pair. However, only one voice spoke.

 

“Human Dib.”

 

The voice was higher in octave, and sounded distinctly female. It carried an air of adolescence, though not minor. Perhaps closer to Dib’s age?

 

Wide brown eyes looked upwards at the sound of the clear English words. A bewildered human gaze fell upon the covered face of an unknown figure. The _entire_ alien was covered, in fact, save for one singular eye, set in where Dib would _assume_ was their forehead. It looked similar to his own eyes, though it lacked a distinct pupil. Instead, a seamless green iris stared down at him from within white sclera.

 

“Wh… _What?”_

 

“You’re Human Dib, right?” the stranger asked, their brown cloak blown by the breeze. Two broad bands of purple-- one darker, one lighter-- adorned their sleeves and garment’s hem.

 

“Uh… yeah. I’m Dib.” the boy rubbed once more at his eyes, pushing his glasses up haphazardly, “How can you speak--”

 

_“Shh,_ there’s no time for questions.” the alien crouched next to the duo, “Let me see Zim.”

 

Dib held Zim a little closer, confused expression morphing into a frown, _“Hang on a second,_ why should I trust _you?_ You’re the _only_ alien here who can speak English, you know _both_ mine _and_ Zim’s _names?_ You’re acting pretty _suspicious_ to me, Pal!”

 

_“Listen,_ I wish I could give you answers now, but there isn’t much _time!_ If you want to help Zim, you need to listen to me _now!”_

 

A pause, “...You can help Zim?”

 

_“I_ can’t, but I know someone who _can_. She’s stationed on a healer’s planet outside IRKEN rule, called _Kestasis_. Here,” a piece of paper was presented, “punch these coordinates into your ship, and it’ll take you there. But be careful, and keep your ship _and_ your little friend here hidden. Being IRKEN around those parts could get you _shot on sight.”_

 

_“WHAT?! Are you_ **_KIDDING_** _me?!_ How am I supposed to know that this isn’t some kind of _trap?!”_

 

“You don’t have a lot of _options_ right now, _do you_ , Human Dib?” the stranger was growing impatient, their frustration evident in the strain of their voice, “You can _trust me_ , and potentially _save_ Zim’s life, _or_ , you can _stay here_ and let him _die!”_

 

Dib was silent a moment more, as he mulled this over in his mind. This alien was _right_. If he followed the coordinates into a trap, and they got killed, Zim would be just as _dead_ as if he stayed here. If it turned out _not_ to be a trap, however, Zim may have a chance at survival. In the end, it all came down to whether or not he was willing to risk his _own_ life.

 

Hesitantly, Dib lowered Zim, and uncovered him enough for the stranger to see.

 

“...Will he make it there?”

 

A single, inhuman eye frowned, and the alien tilted their head to examine the IRKEN, “We’re cutting it close. _Really_ close.” Zim was bundled back up, and held close once more, “But if you go _now_ , and push your ship to its limit, you should be able to make it in time.”  

 

Dib was already on his feet before the stranger could even finish their thought. Quickly, a hand reached out to grab the boy’s arm-- its skin was a dull yellow, “When you get to Kestasis, ask for the _“Qjylkes Lfenem”._ It means _“Crystal Shaman”._ They’ll know who you are.”

 

With a quick nod, Dib was off, running faster than he had ever run in his life.

 

* * *

 

_“Come on!_ We don’t have much _time_ left! Zim is going to _die_ if we don’t go _right now!”_

 

“And we will _all_ die if I take you to these coordinates!” Tak’s voice growled, the ship still docked on the surface of MEDICINA, “Seeing as your _inferior mind_ seems to be struggling, allow me to make one thing _perfectly_ clear-- if we enter this airspace, we will be _shot down._ Does that make sense to you, or should I explain it again?”

 

“Ship, I’m not willing to argue with you! If you don’t take us _right now,_ I’ll find another way there, and _leave you here to rot!”_

 

_“Good._ Anything would be better than being _blown to scrap_ in the middle of hostile territory. Maybe a competent _IRKEN_ will find me and take me away from _you.”_

 

“Ship, _please!”_ Dib begged, his voice cracking as he became more desperate. He could feel the lump growing in his throat, and his eyes had begun to sting, “This is the _last chance_ I have to help Zim! I can’t-- _I can’t lose him!”_

 

The female IRKEN voice groaned, “That’s _enough_ whining, you spoiled SMEET! I will _take you_ , if it will _shut you up_ for a moment. Maybe being _blasted to bits_ will finally allow me some _peace.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Dib sat back, the small alien cradled in his arms. Things were eerily quiet now that Zim had grown unresponsive. Only his wheezing, and the soft hum of the ship kept the human company. It had been a few days-- 5 to be exact-- and Dib was becoming more restless with each second of travel. Zim was often sleeping now, spending less and less time awake. The fear that he would simply drift off forever had grown even stronger in the pit of Dib’s gut, and he found that he was no longer able to escape it. He just hoped that they would reach Kestasis in time.

 

As he sat back, he examined the slip of paper the cloaked stranger had given him. On one side, coordinates, on the other, a message. One he hadn’t stopped thinking about since first reading it.

 

_“Give this to Zim when he is well._

_Batch 43sub12 #762”_

 

What could that possibly mean? The way it was laid out, with a “batch” and a number, was it some kind of product? What did it have to do with Zim? How did this stranger know about Zim’s illness, or even who Zim _was?_ How did they know who _Dib_ was? None of this made a lot of sense, and it gave the boy an awful feeling. This _had_ to be some kind of trap. _Surely!_ Why else would everything be so cryptic and secretive?

 

Sighing, Dib stuffed the note into his pocket. If this whole fiasco _did_ somehow work in their favor, the _least_ he could do was play along. If they survived, he would give the strange code to Zim. Hopefully he could make more sense of it than Dib could.

 

Looking down at the alien, Dib frowned. He pulled the sleeve of his trenchcoat down over his hand, and used the fabric to carefully dab away the sweat from Zim’s brow. Despite his violent shivering, the IRKEN’s face was hot and flushed, no doubt riddled with fever. The boy wished there was more he could do to comfort Zim, or to ease some of his symptoms.

 

“When we get back to Earth, I’ll buy you as _many snacks_ as you want.” Dib mumbled as he dried the alien’s feverish skin, “And… I’ll let you break all my cameras! A-And my _laptop!_ Or… _something!_ _I don’t know,_ just… _anything you want!”_

 

“Are you quite _done?”_ the ship’s voice asked flatly, “If I wasn’t simply a simulated personality, I would be _retching.”_

 

“Okay, okay, I _get it!_ I’m sorry I’m not a _cold, unfeeling alien monster,_ like _you!”_

 

“Funny you would say such things while _coddling_ a _cold, unfeeling alien monster_ like _me.”_

 

“... _No_. Zim’s not like _you_. He’s…”

 

Dib paused, looking back down at the tiny IRKEN in his arms. He seemed so small now, nothing like the boisterous Invader he had been for so many years. But… he _had_ been a danger back then, hadn’t he? _Selfish_ and _loud_ and _arrogant_. He _had_ caused a lot of havoc back on Earth…

 

Then again, Dib had _also_ witnessed many of Zim’s _intense_ displays of emotion. Fear, pain, sadness, even the occasional genuine bout of joy. From what information he had managed to gather over the years, none of these things were common practice among IRKEN. They were things that got Zim into _trouble_ , caused him to _suffer_ , made him _different_. Things that made Zim,

 

**_“Zim.”_ **

 

“He is not like me, because he is _Zim?”_

 

“...Yeah. That’s right.”

 

“Ah, I see. _You’ve lost your mind.”_

  
Dib couldn’t help but laugh, though it was bittersweet. Or course Tak, or in this case, Tak’s _personality_ , wouldn’t understand. Not only did she still hold a grudge against Zim, but she was _IRKEN_ , and _fully functional_ , just like the rest. Zim may not have been created perfectly. Maybe his PAK was _“defective”,_ like his leaders had said. But Dib was no different, was he? He, too, was shamed and tormented for not acting the same way as his peers. For being _insane_. Neither of them seemed to fit into their societal moulds, no matter how hard they desperately tried. Maybe they weren’t meant for those moulds at all. Maybe they were meant to make their _own_.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter actually went through a lot of revising to try and amp up the descriptions a little more, and to fix a few sloppily-written scenes. I think I'm happy with where it is now! 
> 
> Plus, I've been bursting to introduce a /certain/ character since chapter one, so this is a pretty exciting post for me! I hope you all continue to enjoy reading as much as I have continued to enjoy writing!

* * *

 

 

“We have now entered hostile territory. If I’m lucky, perhaps my disassembly will be quick.”

 

Dib had been lightly dozing when the ship’s simulated voice spoke. It startled the boy, and he jumped awake, jerking upwards in his seat. Zim, still nestled safely in his arms, gave a small, pained grumble in response to being jostled, though was soothed by a gentle hand stroking over his blanket-covered head.

 

“How much longer until we reach Kestasis?”

 

“Approximately two Earth cycles remain until we reach planet Kestasis. Two more _horrible_ days.” the ship replied.

 

 _Two more days._ It may as well have been two _lifetimes_ left to go. Things had been so suffocatingly _quiet_ over the past couple weeks, even the boy’s “Captain’s Logs” having come to an unceremonious halt. There just wasn’t a point in logging when there was nothing left to be said. He could only express his sickening anxiety so many times before the act became moot. Not only was he wracked with worry for the faux-Invader, but his own food and water supply was beginning to run low. He hoped that, if they did make it to Kestasis, they would have _something_ edible that he could stock up on. Something that agreed with his biology as well, that is.

 

“Hey, Ship,” Dib began, “how’s our cloaking? Is it working?”

 

 _“No_ , we are _completely unhidden_. I figured it would be _fun_ to fly as an IRKEN vessel in territory hostile to IRKEN.”

 

 _“Our cloaking is working just fine, Dib!”_ the boy mimicked Tak’s voice, “How hard would it be to say something like _that_ , huh? Why do you always have to be such a _jerk?”_

 

“Because you _stole me_ , and I _hate you.”_

 

“That’s fair.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tak’s Spittle Runner was getting awfully _tired_ of having its hardware abused. The moment the healer’s planet had come into view, Dib had _slammed_ his hands against the controls, driving the joystick forward with such force it was a miracle it hadn’t _snapped_. The ship had expressed its disdain, though it had fallen on deaf ears. All the boy cared about was landing on that planet as _fast as possible._

 

Kestasis was a relatively small celestial body, bright yellow and littered with swirling blue clouds. It was lacking all of the neon lights and bold IRKEN signs that busied MEDICINA, its natural beauty untarnished by its inhabitants. In fact, the planet had no signs _whatsoever_ , and if Dib didn’t have direct coordinates, he would never have been able to discern this place from any other alien planet they had passed on their journey. Perhaps knowledge of Kestasis was spread solely by word of mouth? How tightly-knit _were_ the aliens on this side of the galaxy? Dib hadn’t spent much more than two days here, and yet he already noticed the drastic differences between IRKEN-owned territory, and territory that fell outside of their militaristic rule. There was a distinct lack of _unnatural_ space debris, and the constant bustle of ships had died down to near nothing. Each planet Dib passed was bright, and seemed full of life, a stark contrast to the dull, polluted bodies under IRKEN command. Perhaps that was part of the reason they were all so very often over-encumbered with flashy neon lights and signs. The boy remembered Zim mentioning that his leaders could _“just turn Earth into a parking lot planet”_ or something once. Was that _normal?_ _Parking lot planets?!_

 

Dib just hoped that these differences meant that the aliens here were _friendly_. At least, to those who were _not_ IRKEN.

 

Disguised as a Vortian Cargo Runner, Tak’s ship landed on the surface of Kestasis. The simulated personality inside the Runner opted to keep its comments to itself this time, not wishing to break the illusion of its cloaking. Dib didn’t care what the reasoning behind the silence was, he was _grateful_ nonetheless. He wasn’t interested in snarky remarks at the moment. The boy was on a _mission--_ possibly the most _important_ mission of his life-- and _nothing_ was going to distract him. Not _sarcastic ships,_ and _certainly_ not _beautiful alien worlds!_

 

Kestasis _was_ beautiful. The yellow sky was bright, with only a few wispy blue clouds dotting its face. The planet’s surface was covered in a lush jungle of flora, all colours, shapes, and sizes, seemingly allowed to grow freely around the clearing used for the docking of ships. It felt almost like a primitive world, when compared to MEDICINA. A maintained green-dirt pathway lead Dib through a thick stretch of alien jungle, until he stood in a new, fully occupied glade. Huts and tents were set up inside the circular area, most made of vibrant fabrics or other natural materials. Aliens of a few different races came and went, though the most prominent of the bunch was a race of yellow-skinned creatures, sporting three eyes and odd feelers that protruded from both their backs, and the sides of their faces. Each member of this race was dressed in brown robes, _eerily similar_ to that of the stranger on MEDICINA. In fact, each alien manning one of the many medical stations wore the same type of cloak, adorned with the purple stripes that had accented the stranger’s own clothing. Other stripe colours littered the area as well, though purple seemed to be the most popular. Did these stripes, and their colours, hold some kind of meaning? Dib tucked that thought into the back of his mind; no time to find out right now.

 

Not a single second was wasted as the human hurried up to the very first hut he saw, _“Listen_ , I don’t have a lot of time to waste, so I’m going to cut to the chase here. I need to see someone who can help my friend! The, uh… _Crystal Shaman,_ I think they said? _No_ , there was another _word!_ What _was_ it? _Think,_ Dib!”

 

As the boy pressed a hand to his head, the alien seemed to grow concerned, her three eyes frowning. All of her long, feeler-like appendages seemed to bristle, and she held out her hands in a universal “calm down” gesture. She didn’t understand what this creature was saying, but it was obviously distressed, and as a healer, it was her _job_ to help those in need! If only she could understand the strange _language_ the alien was speaking!  

 

“Key _-jel-_ keys? _Left-_ nam? _Kel--_ no, uh… _Shit!”_

 

Too many eyes widened, _“Qjylkes Lfenem?”_

 

 _“Yeah!_ Yeah, _that’s it!”_ Dib exclaimed, his face lighting up. The alien manning the tent took note of the change in demeanor, and gave a quick, curt not, before stepping away from her station and gesturing for Dib to follow.

 

Zim, still bundled up in blankets and completely covered, was held close to the human’s body as they were led through the market-like setup of the clearing. Those that passed raised their temple feelers in greeting to both the healer and the human, or offered small smiles. Even those who were suffering from obvious ailments made a point to direct a kind greeting their way. From what Dib observed, this did not seem to be a practice reserved only for him, but a cultural norm on this planet. This place was _definitely_ far from IRK.

 

Tents and huts began to thin as the trio reached the edge of the glade. Dib could feel his heart beating against his chest as he hurried alongside his guide, his anxiety spiking as the reality of the situation overcame him. He still had no idea if this was a trap or not. The stranger had told him that if he mentioned the Crystal Shaman, they would know who he was, and what he had come for; that hadn’t been a lie. However, how did he know that wasn’t how the trap was to be sprung? After all, they would need to know who to target, and he had just given them a bullseye. Besides, if this _“Crystal Shaman”_ was supposed to help Zim, would they not be stationed in the common area with the other healers? Where was he being led? This entire setup was beginning to give Dib some second thoughts, though he didn’t have long to dwell on them. Stopping in front of the thick wall of colourful jungle, the healer reached forwards to pull back some overgrown foliage. A new pathway was revealed, clearly lacking maintenance, and only wide enough for one person to travel at a time. Quick gestures urged Dib forwards, but the human hesitated.

 

“Are you telling me that this, uh, _“Keyjellies Lifename”_ thing is through here?”

 

The alien nodded, though she only recognised two-- attempted-- words, _“Qjylkes Lfenem!”_

 

Dib frowned, and peered once more down the narrow footpath. Everything inside of him was _screaming_ to turn around, but the shivering bundle in his arms pushed him to make the first step. If he died, at least he died _trying!_

 

Foliage was replaced once the human had begun his journey, after a small wave from the helpful healer. This alien jungle was densely packed, and the natural canopy hanging overhead let in very little of the planet’s light. Dib found himself stumbling in the overgrowth, having to reach blindly for-- what he assumed were-- trees to keep himself from toppling over more than once. Not far along the trail, however, a soft light came into view, creating a glowing arch that beckoned the human to come closer. Squinting as he finally poked his head out into yet another clearing, Dib laid eyes on one singular hut. It didn’t look much different from those lining the common area, save for the colourful bottles filled with liquids of various colours that decorated the landscape around it. Cautiously, the human stepped forwards, approaching the primitive building, ducking in through the hanging fabric that served as its door. Inside, sitting on a colourful mat positioned in the middle of the floor, was an alien dressed in garments similar to the other healers of the planet. However, instead of the long, billowed sleeves of the standard healer’s robe, this alien bore long, tight purple sleeves, with matching leggings. A brown poncho rested over her shoulders, adorned with familiar purple stripes at its hem, and a purple hood covered the figure’s head and face, allowing only closed eyes to be seen. Their legs were crossed, hands held up, pressed together, in front of their chest. Were they _praying?_ _Meditating?_

 

“Uh… _Hello?”_ Dib ventured, “Are… you the Crystal Shaman? Or, uh, the _“Keyjelly--”_

 

“Human Dib.” the alien interrupted, her feminine voice soft and smooth. Though she addressed the human in the same fashion the stranger had, Dib could tell this had not been his visitor, “I am She. I have been awaiting your arrival for some time now.”

 

Slowly, the Shaman rose, lowering her hands as she stood. Her eyes opened, revealing two piercing blue pupiless eyes. Though Dib could not see her expression behind her covering, he could almost _feel_ her warm smile. “You have travelled a long way to get here, my friend. Please, rest, and allow me to examine your IRKEN companion.”

 

Dib was reluctant to give Zim over so easily, but his hope got the better of him. After not only making it all this way, but actually _finding_ this so-called _“Crystal Shaman”_ , he _couldn’t_ back out now. Not when he was _so close_ to possibly saving Zim from the virus that plagued his tiny body. Hesitantly, the human held out the blanket bundle, which the Shaman carefully took into her arms. She sat once more, placing Zim onto the mat in front of her, where she uncovered his shivering form. Quiet, foreign words were breathed, as she stroked a hand gingerly over the smaller’s white antennae. Dib couldn’t place where he had heard that language before…

 

“H-Hey, _careful!”_ the human warned, kneeling on the opposite side of Zim, “Those are _sensitive!”_

 

A soft laugh escaped the healer’s throat, “I am quite aware, Human Dib. You have no need for worry.” as she spoke, she reached over to take one of the boy’s hands in her own. She guided it to Zim, and placed it over his antennae, “Here. It is a soothing gesture. It will calm him while I work.”

 

Dib could feel his hands shaking as he slowly ran his palm along the length of the little alien’s sensory organs. Zim didn’t seem to react negatively, and in fact, his body seemed to ease, which aided in keeping the human’s spirits up. Maybe this really _wasn’t_ a trap after all. Maybe Zim really _was_ going to get the help he needed!

 

“Can you describe his symptoms to me?”

 

“Uh… I heard him say shivering, loss of color, chills… I think fever? Stomach-- I mean, uh, _spoochaches,_ obviously white antennae, and, uh… _oh!_ He mentioned pain. I _think_ it’s abdominal pain.” Dib frowned, pausing his petting in order to fiddle with one of the antennae, “He called his leaders, and they said he has some old, incurable IRKEN disease.”

 

The Shaman nodded as Dib spoke, though she didn’t pause in her examination. Her hands carefully pressed against certain points on the smaller’s body, testing for soreness or abnormalities. Nothing got much of a reaction from Zim; no more than a small groan, mostly. That is, until the healer’s fingers poked into his middle, tearing a _wail_ of pain from his throat. Dib nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound. That was the loudest thing he had heard from Zim in _weeks!_

 

 _“I know, I know…”_ the alien healer soothed, _“Forgive me,_ little one.”

 

Zim’s trembling had _spiked_ , and he struggled to try and catch his breath with pitiful, open-mouth gasps. Dib was growing anxious, and wanted this to _stop_. He wanted nothing more than to bundle the IRKEN back up and _run away_ with him, keep him safe and free of pain.

 

“Are you almost done? I-I don’t think he can handle much more!”

 

A deep frown crossed the Shaman’s face, and she looked up at Dib apologetically, “Yes, I am finished now. I hope you understand I do not intend to harm.”

 

“Just… go easy on him. _Please_. It’s been rough.”

 

The Shaman gave a sombre nod, before lifting the IRKEN’s tunic to reveal deep, blackened bruises across his torso. Dib took in an audible gasp, his eyes widening. No wonder Zim had been in so much abdominal pain.

 

“The Tallest did not lie.” the healer began, “Though I have not seen a case of this in decades, they have certainly identified this pathogen correctly.”

 

“What _is_ it?”

 

“A _death sentence.”_ came the Shaman’s response, her soft voice gaining a bite that had been absent previously. She closed her eyes, and took a slow, calming breath, before continuing, “This virus, it attacks the squeedilyspooch. _That_ is where all of this bruising is coming from.”

 

Dib lightly brushed his fingers over the patchy green skin, but pulled back when Zim’s face contorted into a grimace. “Is it true? That this is incurable?”

  
Standing, the Shaman stepped silently around the two in order to approach one of the hand-crafted shelves that decorated the inside of the hut. “For _them_ , it is. For _us,”_ a few of the dozens of brilliantly coloured bottles were pushed carefully aside, so that something may be retrieved from behind them. A vial of translucent orange liquid was held up to the light, “it is _not.”_


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that have been following this work either from the beginning, or early on, you may have noticed that I didn't update per my weekly schedule. That is because I'm actually out of pre-written chapters, so each one I post now has to be written before the due date. Because of this, I'm going to be changing my schedule from weekly to bi-weekly. Meaning, a new chapter will (hopefully) be published every SECOND Friday from now on! This will give me a little more time to write each one, and not have to rush and create sloppy work! 
> 
> Also, I'd like to thank AO3's user Kizimba for their generous amount of information regarding medical procedures and the like, which will help me greatly to write a more realistic recovery for Zim! Though I have not yet implemented a lot of the information just yet, it shall come into play in the next few chapters, once the duo reaches Earth, and has advanced technology readily available to them!

* * *

 

 

Delicate glass was turned over in Dib’s hands as he examined the vial. The liquid inside swirled with an almost glitter-like shine, his movements creating beautiful spirals on its surface.

 

“What _is_ this?”

 

_“This_ is your companion’s key to _survival_ , my friend.” the Shaman replied, reaching to carefully take the vial back into her possession, “A mixture made on a planet not far from here, with the _sole purpose_ of preserving the lives of IRKEN affected by this _curse.”_

 

Kneeling back down onto her mat, the healer gingerly tilted her patient’s chin upwards, and coaxed his mouth open. She removed the cork-like stopper that held the concoction inside the glass, and tipped it until a single drop fell onto Zim’s tongue. Once more she performed this motion, before closing the vial. Her actions were rewarded with a grumble from the smaller, and a scrunched face.

 

“Two drops a day on the tongue, and IRKEN Zim will be well again.” the Shaman held the vial back out to Dib, offering a soft smile under her face covering, “This will clear the pathogen from his system. I am sure _he_ will be able to handle the rest once you both return to Earth.”

 

With the shimmering orange liquid returned to him, Dib resumed staring into it, though his brow was furrowed in thought. He finally tore his gaze away, and looked up to the healer,

 

“That’s _it? This_ is going to save Zim? After everything that’s happened, a couple drops of some kind of _potion_ is what I’m expected to rely on?” as the human’s voice began to rise, his fist tightened around the glass, though he took care not to crack it, “How do I know this is even going to _work?_ How do I know I can _trust_ you? So far all you’ve done is _poke him_ and give me a _home remedy!_ _Plus_ , you haven’t really been very _open_ with us, y’know! You’ve been _‘waiting for us?’_ How do you even know we _exist?_ How do you know our _names?_ How are you the only alien here who can speak _English?_ _Huh?_ Can you tell me any of _that_ , miss _‘Crystal Shaman’?!”_

 

“I did not think you a _sceptic_ , Human Dib.” came the calm reply, “Though I admire your foresight, I assure you, I truly _do_ have only the best of intentions.”

 

“If that’s _true_ , then why won’t you _answer_ my _questions?!”_

 

“Some answers come with _time_ , my friend.” the Shaman’s hands busied themselves with tenderly re-wrapping the little IRKEN in blankets, “As does _recovery.”_

 

As Zim was lifted from the ground and held outwards to the boy once more, Dib pocketed the vial and took the bundle back into his arms, pressing it close to his chest. He could feel the alien’s small body shaking against him, and he couldn’t help but allow his gaze to be pulled downwards, meeting the face of the mighty Invader. Unsteadily, he ran the back of his fingers over the soft green skin of Zim’s pale cheek, a quiet huff of pity escaping him. With his eyes squeezed shut behind his glasses, he shook his head. As much as he wanted to press on, to have his inquiries fulfilled, he knew that he had no other option to fall back on. If he decided _not_ to follow the Shaman’s advice, it would mean a _slow_ , and _painful_ end for his nemesis-- and _companion--_ of 9 years.

 

“I’m guessing that means you’re not going to tell me who met us on that other medical planet either, then, huh?”

 

This earned a laugh from the Shaman, amused, yet just as soft as her voice, “A long-time friend of mine. As it would be unwise of me to leave my position, she offered to deliver the message to you, herself.”

 

“And where is _she?”_

 

“I am afraid she is not on planet, currently.”

 

_“Of course she’s not.”_

 

Following the human’s bitter reply, the healer stood once more, sky blue eyes full of empathy for the duo’s plight. She stepped forwards, placing a kind hand against Dib’s forearm. Though she was no taller than four and a half feet, the boy felt as though he were being addressed by a respected Elder.

 

_“Human Dib._ I _understand_ your hesitation, _I do._ But I only wish to offer my aid to you both. Some things may be difficult to understand at this moment. You have many unanswered questions. You are _fearful_. But it is not my time to answer just yet. I hope you can learn to one day forgive me.”

 

_“...I don’t want him to die.”_ Dib felt his voice _crack_ around the lump in his throat, and it took every ounce of his remaining strength to hold back the tears that threatened to escape from his eyes.  

 

A small clawed hand squeezed the boy’s arm, ** _“And he will not._** _This_ , I can promise you.”

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,294_

_DATE: 05/29 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER THIRTEEN._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY 8:28PM ON THE TWENTY NINTH OF MAY BACK ON EARTH._

 

_SO, IT’S BEEN A BIT OF A RIDE SINCE I LAST LOGGED. WE REACHED KESTASIS, AND THAT “CRYSTAL SHAMAN” PERSON WAS ACTUALLY **THERE!** I COULDN’T BELIEVE IT, BUT… SHE WAS **THERE!** SHE GAVE ME THIS BOTTLE OF ORANGE STUFF AND TOLD ME IF I GAVE ZIM TWO DROPS A DAY, IT WOULD MAKE HIM FEEL BETTER. I HAVE MY SUSPICIONS, BUT I GUESS IT’S BETTER THAN NOTHING. _

 

_ACTUALLY, SHE GAVE ME A FEW OTHER THINGS, TOO. SHE HELPED ME STOCK MY SHIP UP WITH FRUIT AND WATER AND STUFF FROM THE PLANET. SHE TOLD ME IT WOULDN’T GO BAD BEFORE WE GOT HOME, SO THAT’S GOOD. ALSO SOME OF THE WATER STOCK HAS SUGAR IN IT, FOR ZIM. SHE SAID I SHOULD GIVE HIM LOTS OF IT, BUT I’M KINDA SCARED HE’LL PUKE OR SOMETHING IF I GIVE HIM TOO MUCH. I GUESS THIS WATER ISN’T LIKE THE WATER ON EARTH. AT LEAST, I HOPE IT ISN’T. THE LAST THING I NEED IS TO MAKE ZIM DRINK SOMETHING THAT’LL BURN HIM._

 

_ON TOP OF THE “LOTS OF SUGAR WATER” THING, SHE TOLD ME TO TRY AND KEEP HIM REAL WARM, AND MAKE SURE HE RESTS. I HAVEN’T REALLY PUT HIM DOWN FOR VERY LONG IN WEEKS, SO I DON’T THINK “KEEPING HIM WARM” WILL BE MUCH OF A PROBLEM. MAKING HIM REST, ON THE OTHER HAND, MIGHT BE A BIT HARDER LATER ON, IF THIS STUFF ACTUALLY **WORKS…**_

 

_SHE ALSO GAVE ME A SECOND GLASS VIAL OF… **STUFF…** BUT THIS ONE IS BLUE. SAID IT WOULD HELP WITH PAIN, BUT NOT TO USE IT TOO MUCH BECAUSE IT CAN MAKE HIM NAUSEOUS.  _

 

_OH YEAH! THE LAST THING SHE GAVE ME WAS THIS CRYSTAL THING? IT’S PINK, AND IT’S ATTACHED TO A GOLD THREAD. IT LOOKS LIKE ONE OF THOSE QUARTZ CRYSTALS "WITCHY" PEOPLE USE. YOU KNOW THE ONES, POINTED AT THE ENDS, LONG? IT ACTUALLY GIVES OFF A BIT OF LIGHT, THOUGH. LIKE, IT’S LITERALLY **GLOWING!** SHE SAID THAT IT’S CALLED A “NERLONIAN HEALING CRYSTAL”, FROM THE PLANET “NERLON”. APPARENTLY, IT’S REALLY RARE AND SUPPOSED TO BRING GOOD LUCK TO WHOEVER WEARS IT. I THINK SHE SAID ONLY NERLONIAN HEALERS HAVE THEM OR SOMETHING? I GUESS THAT’S WHAT SHE IS, THEN. _

 

_ALTHOUGH, I REMEMBER THE ALIEN THAT LEAD ME TO HER HAD ONE OF THEM, TOO, I THINK, AND SHE DIDN’T LOOK LIKE HER. I MEAN, THE SHAMAN WAS ALL COVERED BUT I SAW HER EYES, AND THEY WERE DIFFERENT! MAYBE SHE’S SPECIAL OR SOMETHING? I MEAN, SHE **DOES** HAVE A COOL TITLE AND ALL THAT. SUPER SECRETIVE, TOO. **WAY** TOO SECRETIVE, IF YOU ASK ME. _

 

_ANYWAYS, I’M NOT REALLY SURE ABOUT ALL THIS. YES, OKAY, THERE REALLY **WAS** A “CRYSTAL SHAMAN”, BUT… THIS SEEMS LIKE WITCH-DOCTOR-Y STUFF. IS A **POTION** REALLY GOING TO **MIRACULOUSLY** HEAL ZIM FROM AN **INCURABLE** DISEASE? _

 

_…_

 

_I GUESS WE’LL FIND OUT._

 

_THIS HAS BEEN DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,295_

_DATE: 06/2 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER FOURTEEN._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY 12:32PM ON THE SECOND OF JUNE BACK ON EARTH._

 

_SO, I’VE BEEN ADDING UP THE DAYS FROM MY OWN LOGS, AND FROM THE LOGS THAT THE SHIP KEEPS, AND IT LOOKS LIKE IT TOOK US JUST A FEW DAYS UNDER **SEVEN WEEKS** TO GET FROM EARTH, TO MEDICINA, TO KESTASIS. _

 

**_OH BOY…_ **

 

_I MEAN, I’M NOT SURE HOW LONG I **THOUGHT** A **SPACE ADVENTURE** WOULD TAKE, BUT… **SEVEN WEEKS** WASN’T IT! THAT’S LIKE… **TWO MONTHS!** I CAN ONLY IMAGINE WHAT’S GOING ON BACK HOME… DAD’S PROBABLY **SO** ANGRY… _

 

_…_

 

_ON TOP OF THAT, I’M NOT SEEING ANY KIND OF CHANGE IN ZIM AT ALL! AND I MEAN, LIKE, **NONE**. HE’S STILL COMPLETELY UNRESPONSIVE, JUST LAYS IN MY ARMS AND SHIVERS. THE ONLY REACTION I EVER GET OUT OF HIM IS WHEN I GIVE HIM THE DROPS FROM THE SHAMAN. HE ALWAYS SCRUNCHES HIS FACE UP LIKE IT TASTES BAD. I DON’T THINK HE LIKES IT VERY MUCH. _

 

_THIS IS SO… **STUPID!** I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M REALLY FORCING HIM TO DRINK THIS GROSS **POTION** WHILE HE’S **FUCKING DYING!** AM I REALLY THIS MUCH OF AN IDIOT?! _

 

_…MAYBE I REALLY **AM** CRAZY. _

 

_..._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,296_

_DATE: 06/16 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER FIFTEEN._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY 2:18PM ON THE SIXTEENTH OF JUNE BACK ON EARTH._

 

_SO, I TOOK A BIT OF A BREAK FROM LOGGING AFTER MY LAST ONE. I JUST KINDA… WANTED TO FOCUS ON TRYING TO HELP ZIM, Y’KNOW?_

 

_I’M NOT REALLY SURE WHY, BUT I KEPT GIVING HIM THIS ORANGE STUFF. I GUESS IT WAS OUT OF HOPE, REALLY? I DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT THAT MAYBE… I DID ALL OF THAT FOR NOTHING?_

 

_BUT… BUT THINGS ARE STARTING TO CHANGE! IT’S NOT A **HUGE** CHANGE, BUT ZIM’S REACTING TO THINGS NOW! HE GRUMBLES WHEN I MOVE HIM, AND HE’S STARTED TO MAKE THOSE LITTLE WHIMPERING SOUNDS AGAIN! I… DON’T LIKE THOSE SOUNDS, BUT… IT’S BETTER THAN SILENCE. AT LEAST IT MEANS HE’S MORE AWARE NOW, RIGHT? _

 

_I’M FINDING IT EASIER TO GET HIM TO DRINK, TOO. IT LOOKS LIKE HE’S NOT STRUGGLING AS MUCH TO SWALLOW THE WATER NOW. THAT’S GOOD! THAT’S GOOD…_

 

**_GOD_ ** _, I JUST… I KNOW I’M SUPPOSED TO BE EXCITED, BUT… I’M JUST **SCARED**. I MEAN, HE SEEMS TO BE GETTING BETTER! BUT IT’S SUCH A SMALL IMPROVEMENT… WHAT IF HE JUST GOES BACK DOWNHILL AGAIN? WHAT IF I LET MYSELF THINK EVERYTHING IS OKAY AND THEN HE…? _

 

**_[INDISTINGUISHABLE]_ **

 

_EASY, BUDDY… I’M SORRY. I’M BEING TOO LOUD, HUH? YEAH, LET’S… LET’S BE QUIET NOW._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,297_

_DATE: 06/23 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER SIXTEEN._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY 7:19AM ON THE TWENTY THIRD OF JUNE BACK ON EARTH._

 

_IT’S BEEN, UH… JUST A FEW DAYS OVER THREE WEEKS SINCE ZIM AND I LEFT KESTASIS. WE’RE BACK IN IRKEN TERRITORY AGAIN, SO WE’VE BEEN ABLE TO TAKE OUR CLOAKING DOWN. I’M GETTING PRETTY TIRED OF BEING ALL CRAMPED IN THIS SHIP, THOUGH. BOY, ARE MY LEGS EVER SORE! I CAN’T **WAIT** TO BE ABLE TO WALK AROUND FREELY ON EARTH AGAIN. NEVER THOUGHT I’D SAY I ACTUALLY **MISS** EARTH! I GUESS I’M FEELING KINDA HOMESICK. EVEN THOUGH MY FAMILY DOESN’T REALLY LIKE ME ALL THAT MUCH, IT’S STILL HOME, Y’KNOW? I MISS DAD AND GAZ A LOT. _

 

_I WONDER IF ZIM EVER GETS HOMESICK FOR IRK?_

 

_OH! SPEAKING OF ZIM, HE’S ACTUALLY STILL IMPROVING! HE’S STARTED MOVING AROUND A BIT, OPENING HIS EYES AND STUFF. HE CAN’T **WALK AROUND** OR **GET DOWN FROM MY ARMS** YET, BUT HE’S BEEN SHIFTING HIMSELF AND GETTING COMFORTABLE AND ALL THAT. HE’S STILL SPENDING A LOT OF TIME SLEEPING, BUT HE **IS** STARTING TO STAY AWAKE MORE AND MORE! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TALK TO HIM AND KEEP HIM DISTRACTED WHEN HE’S AWAKE. TAKE HIS MIND OFF OF THE STOMACH PAIN. HE HASN’T SAID ANYTHING BACK, BUT HE DOESN’T REALLY LOOK AWAY, EITHER, SO… I THINK HE’S INTERESTED? _

 

_THE SHAMAN TOLD ME THAT PETTING HIS ANTENNAE IS SOOTHING? SO, I’VE BEEN DOING THAT, AND, YEAH, HE REALLY SEEMS TO LIKE IT. I THINK IT’S COMFORTING FOR HIM. IT’S… KINDA COMFORTING FOR ME, TOO, IN A WAY._

 

**_[SHUFFLING]_ **

 

_…IS IT WEIRD THAT I WISH I COULD KEEP DOING THIS KIND OF THING EVEN AFTER THIS IS ALL OVER? PETTING HIM AND STUFF, I MEAN. I… THINK I’D REALLY LIKE TO BE ABLE TO--_

 

**_DI… IB…_ **

 

_HUH? ZIM? I-- I THOUGHT YOU WERE ASLEEP._

 

**_C… COLD… S’COLD..._ **

 

_I KNOW YOU’RE COLD, ZIM… I’M SORRY, BUDDY. HERE, LET’S WRAP THESE BLANKETS UP A BIT MORE… THAT BETTER? OH, UH-- H-HEY, CAREFUL! YOU NEED TO--_

 

_…OR YOU CAN CUDDLE UP THERE, I GUESS…_

 

**_M… AKE… W-WARM…_ **

 

_…YEAH, I’LL… I’LL MAKE YOU WARM. JUST TAKE IT EASY…_

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,298_

_DATE: 06/30 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER SEVENTEEN._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY 4:36PM ON THE THIRTIETH OF JUNE BACK ON EARTH._

 

_FOUR WEEKS DOWN, THREE MORE TO GO! I THINK BOTH ZIM AND I ARE ITCHING TO GET BACK ONTO SOLID GROUND AGAIN. THE MORE HE IMPROVES, THE MORE RESTLESS HE GETS. THE LITTLE GUY’S ACTUALLY MANAGING TO HOLD SMALL CONVERSATIONS WITH ME NOW, AND HE’S EVEN GAINING BACK A LITTLE BIT OF HIS… ZIM… NESS? YEAH. HIS “ZIMNESS”. I CAN’T EVEN **BEGIN** TO TELL YOU HOW GREAT IT FELT TO HEAR HIM CALL ME “DIB-SMELLY” AGAIN. _

 

_UH, ACTUALLY, SPEAKING OF WHICH, I’M NOT TOO SURE HOW MUCH LONGER I’LL BE ABLE TO MAKE THESE LOGS WITHOUT HIM KNOWING. USUALLY, I JUST MAKE THEM WHILE HE’S ASLEEP SO THAT I WON’T BOTHER HIM, AND, UH, SO HE CAN’T **TEASE ME ABOUT IT**. HOWEVER, NOW THAT HE’S GETTING BETTER, HE’S STARTING TO SPEND A LOT MORE TIME AWAKE. DON’T GET ME WRONG, HE’S STILL… **REALLY** TIRED, BUT HE KINDA DRIFTS IN AND OUT NOW, INSTEAD OF SLEEPING FOR HOURS AND HOURS AT A TIME. I’M NEVER REALLY SURE WHEN HE’S GOING TO WAKE UP OR HOW LONG HE’LL BE AWAKE, Y’KNOW? I MIGHT HAVE TO START MAKING THESE LOGS SHORTER IF I WANT TO AVOID GETTING CAUGHT. _

 

_I’M, UH… STILL PRETTY WORRIED ABOUT THE ABDOMINAL PAIN, THOUGH. I MEAN, DOESN’T BRUISING LIKE THAT USUALLY MEAN INTERNAL BLEEDING? THE SHAMAN **DID** SAY THAT ZIM WOULD PROBABLY KNOW HOW TO “HANDLE THE REST” ONCE WE GOT BACK, AND SHE HASN’T BEEN WRONG YET… BUT I CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL A BIT BOTHERED WHENEVER ZIM GROANS OR GRIMACES OR SOMETHING. I GUESS IF WHATEVER SICKNESS HE HAS ATTACKS HIS, UH, **SQUEEDILYSPOOCH** , IT WOULD PROBABLY TAKE THE LONGEST TO HEAL? I DUNNO. I’M NOT A DOCTOR. _

 

_I’VE STARTED GIVING ZIM THAT PAIN MEDICINE THE SHAMAN GAVE ME, AND IT **HAS** BEEN HELPING, BUT IT ONLY SEEMS TO DULL IT A BIT. AND, YEAH, SHE WASN’T KIDDING ABOUT MAKING HIM NAUSEOUS. EVERY TIME I’VE GIVEN IT TO HIM, HE GETS **REAL** QUIET, KEEPS HIS EYES CLOSED. SO FAR, HE’S HANDLED IT PRETTY WELL, BUT THERE HAVE BEEN A COUPLE UNFORTUNATE… **MISHAPS**. I DON’T USUALLY MAKE HIM TAKE ANOTHER DOSE IF HE CAN’T KEEP IT DOWN. _

 

_OH! YOU KNOW WHAT I HAVEN’T MENTIONED YET? THAT FRUIT THAT I GOT FROM KESTASIS! OH **MAN** , IS IT GOOD! I’VE NEVER HAD ANYTHING LIKE THAT ON EARTH! I MEAN, FROM THE LOOKS OF THE PLANET, I’M GUESSING THEY KINDA LET THIS STUFF GROW FREELY? PROBABLY NOT AS MODIFIED AS THE STUFF BACK HOME. BUT **WOW!** I’M DEFINITELY GOING TO MISS THIS! APPLES WILL NEVER BE SATISFYING AGAIN! _

 

_I WAS TOLD NOT TO FEED ANY TO ZIM, THOUGH, SO… I GUESS HE CAN’T PROCESS IT? MORE FOR ME, THEN!_

 

_ANYWAYS, THAT’S ENOUGH FOR NOW! SO MUCH FOR MAKING THESE SHORTER!_

 

_THIS HAS BEEN DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK._

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

* * *

 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_LOG #4,299_

_DATE: 07/14 [EARTH]_

_PAK SIGNATURE: BATCH 94-SUB4, #384 [JANITORIAL]_

_ASSIGNED TITLE: IRKEN “TAK”_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_// TRANSLATED FROM ORIGINAL RECORDING… //_

_// LOG BEGIN… //_

 

_CAPTAIN’S LOG NUMBER EIGHTTEEN._

 

_THIS IS DIB MEMBRANE, AGENT MOTHMAN OF THE SWOLLEN EYEBALL NETWORK. IT IS CURRENTLY--_

 

**_CAPTAIN’S… LOOOOOG?_ **

 

_WH-- ZIM?! YOU WERE JUST SLEEPING!_

 

**_FOOL! ZIM WAS NOT S… SLEEPING! IRKEN SO NOT REQ… UIRE SLEEP LIKE YOU PATHETIC HHHHHUMANS!_ **

 

_ARE YOU SERIOUS?! YOU’VE BEEN DOING NOTHING BUT SLEEPING FOR ALMOST FOUR MONTHS YOU--_

 

**_YOU LIE!! YOU LIIIEEE!!_ **

 

_ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! YOU DON’T SLEEP. YOU’VE JUST BEEN, WHAT, RESTING YOUR EYES FOR HOURS AT A TIME?_

 

**_YES._ **

 

_UH-HUH._

 

**_WHAT A… ARE YOU DOING?_ **

 

_UHHH… TALKING TO MYSELF?_

 

**_YOU ARE NOT!_ **

 

_I AM!_

 

**_YOU ARE MAKING C… CAPTAIN’S LOG-THINGIES! IS-- IS THAT WHY YOU KEEP MAKING SO MUCH HHHHHHORRIBLE NOISE WHILE ZIM IS TRYING TO SLEE-- EH… REST HIS EYES?!_ **

 

_NO! I’VE JUST BEEN, UH--_

 

**_YOU ARE NO CAPTAIN! YOU ARE JUST A… A PIG-SMELLY!_ **

 

_HEY, C’MON! I JUST WANTED TO KEEP A RECORD OF THE TRIP, Y’KNOW? I HAVEN’T BEEN ALL OVER THE GALAXY LIKE YOU HAV—_

 

**_A RECOOORD? YOU DARE TO USE IRKEN TECHNOLOGY LIKE YOUR P… PATHETIC LIVING-JOURNAL?!_ **

 

_MY LIVING-- **HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT MY LIVEJOURNAL?!**_

 

**_UHHH…_ **

 

_HAVE YOU BEEN-- HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN READING IT?! **ZIM?!**_

 

**_YOU HAVE NO PROOF!!_ **

 

_YOU **JUST** SAID--_

 

**_ZIM SAID NOTHING!_ **

_OHMYGOD…_

 

_…_

 

**_MY FAVORITE PART IS WHEN YOU S… SPOKE OF THE GAZ-HUMAN ACCIDENTALLY FINDING YOUR--_ **

 

_THAT’S ENOUGH ZIM!!_

 

**_[LAUGHTER]_ **

**_[COUGHING]_ **

 

_ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, TAKE A BREATHER, SPACE-BOY. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE RESTING, YOU KNOW._

 

**_ZIM NEEDS N… NO…REST!_ **

 

_UH-HUH. LAY DOWN._

 

**_WHAT ABOUT THE… T-TIME WHEN YOUR PANTS F… FELL DOWN BUT YOU WEREN’T WEARING ANY--_ **

 

**_LAY DOWN,_ ** _ZIM!_

 

**_OH, OH! OR THE TIME THAT YOU…_ **

 

_// LOG END… //_

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went HAM writing this chapter and have had it ready for like TWO WEEKS and have been STRUGGLING to hold myself back from posting it early. I DID IT... and here it is! It's actually the longest chapter I've written for this fic to date, I think! I hope you enjoy the fluff, because chapter 9 is going to be... OH BOY, it's gonna be somethin'!

* * *

 

 

”Get ready for re-entry!”

 

Despite Zim’s _insistence_ that he was perfectly fine, the little IRKEN had to brace himself as the ship pierced through the Earth’s atmosphere. He had flown to and from this wretched planet more times than he could count, but he didn’t recall the landing process being quite so… _rough_. He gave a pitiful groan as he felt his spooch _lurch_ , and quickly squeezed his eyes shut. His tiny claws clasped the seat with a shaking grip, and he had to focus all of his willpower into keeping _down_ all of that bland sugar water the human had been insisting he drink.

 

“Hey, Zim, we’re here! Can you open up the top of your— _…Zim?”_ Dib turned around in his seat, looking back at his alien companion, “Hey, you’re not looking so good there, Bud.”

 

Slowly, the IRKEN cracked open one magenta eye, swallowing hard as he tested his vision. The moment that light filled his senses, Zim could feel his guts rolling inside of him, and he shut his eye back up tight. His face had lost most of the colour he had regained over the course of their trip, and his antennae were pinned back, flush to the back of his head.

 

Pressing a hand against his middle, Zim did his best to divert some of his focus towards opening the Voot hangar— accessed through the hidden hatch built into the roof of his base. Normally, controlling this remotely was no more difficult than lifting a finger, mental commands translated into data through his PAK. Now, however, his thoughts were rather jumbled, most of them screaming some form of _“don’t throw up”._ Thankfully, with the aid of the Spittle Runner’s capable cloaking, Dib was safe to idle above the strange little green house until Zim was able to open the hatch.

 

“Alright, _easy_ , Space-boy. I’m landing now.”

 

_“Sssslowlyy…”_ Zim hissed out through gritted teeth.

 

Handling the controls as lightly as he possibly could, Dib lowered Tak’s ship down into the hangar, careful not to collide with the small Voot Cruiser already stationed inside. The craft touched down, and the final jerk of the hull gained another groan of discomfort from Zim. Wind blew cool against the IRKEN’s sweat-peppered face, creeping into the ship’s cabin as the windscreen slid back. He took in a few shallow breaths, attempting to calm his senses. Dib stepped out onto solid ground, his stiff joints popping as he was finally able to fully stretch his body. A heavy sigh of relief followed him dropping his arms back down from over his head, and he turned to look once more at the ship he had spent nearly 14 weeks inside of. It really _had_ been a long ride, hadn’t it?

 

Zim had begun to move, shakily manoeuvring himself around the ship’s seats, so that he, too, may step out into the base. His tiny hands grasped at anything they could find along the way, in a desperate attempt to steady himself. The moment he exited the ship, and before Dib had the chance to react, the IRKEN lost his balance and collapsed onto the floor. His chest heaved as he wheezed, antennae laid back flat against his head once more. Dib was at his side in an instant, hands moving to help him up onto his knees.

 

_“Shit!_ Are you okay?” he was immediately looking the alien over, “Here, let me help y—“

 

“Zim does n… not _NEED_ your _assis-stance!”_ came the sharp interruption, as the IRKEN tried once more to stand on his feet. Thankfully, Dib was there to catch him as his weak knees buckled. Zim _groaned_ , claws clutching the fabric of the human’s black trench coat.

 

_“Easy…”_ Dib carefully positioned his hands under the smaller’s arms, lifting him up to rest against his chest. He knew that Zim’s pride was important to him, but he _also_ knew that he wasn’t going to have much _choice_ in whether or not to put it aside. Not this time. Zim was _far_ from recovered, and Dib was well aware that the little guy was going to need some outside help. Outside help that Dib was _more_ than willing to provide. “Just think of it as… uh… _service?_ I guess? Yeah. I’m _serving_ you. Y’know, _carrying you_ and stuff. Because you’re so _great?”_

 

Alright, maybe he was laying it on a _little_ thick.

 

Zim said nothing in reply, his weary head resting against the human’s shoulder. Magenta eyes fluttered shut, as the base’s roof began to seal itself overhead.

 

 

“Do you have anything like, I dunno, a bedroom? Or something?”

 

Dib’s eyes scanned the room, sweeping over the strange wall decorations and the many large wires that ran this way and that. Though Dib had been in the alien’s base many times before, stepping down into its main level held a completely different feeling today. He wasn’t here to _spy_ or to _tamper_. He hadn’t had to _sneak_ in. A place so familiar to him suddenly seemed so foreign, as if he were lost in his own home.

 

“Zim? C’mon, Buddy, you need to answer me.” the human insisted, shrugging the shoulder on which the alien’s head rested. He reached a hand up to fiddle with one of the IRKEN’s antennae, “You can sleep once we set you up somewhere.”

 

Dib _really_ didn’t want to disturb Zim— not while he was settled in so silently against him— but he knew he had to. He needed to find a comfortable place to set the little guy up to rest, and it just didn’t feel right to make him spend the rest of his recovery on his couch. After all, he had spent most of this entire ordeal either curled in the back of a moving Spittle Runner, or shivering in the human’s arms. He deserved a more accommodating setup while he regained his strength.  

 

_“Zim?”_

 

“Mhm…”

 

A careful hand was run back over sleek black antennae, “Where can I set you up, huh?”

 

Zim shifted a little, making small _chittering_ sounds as he reached up to rub at his face. He grumbled, tired magenta eyes cracking open to look up at the human— his old nemesis. If he wasn’t so _exhausted_ , he may have felt more _shame_ in himself for allowing the boy to _carry_ him like a _SMEET_. For now, however, it sounded far better than walking.

 

There was a pause, as Zim seemed to engage in an internal debate. His brows furrowed, and he glanced towards the faux-kitchen, where he knew multiple secret hatches were placed. Dib watched him closely, his own eyes following the alien’s gaze. He had known Zim long enough to have caught on too many of his mannerisms, and he knew very well that a risk was being calculated. Most likely, whether or not he wanted to trust Dib to enter the lower levels of his fortified lair.

 

_“...Sector 27.”_ Zim finally spoke, though he kept his eyes averted, “You may take Zim to… Sector 27.”

 

_“27._ Got it.”

 

Dib didn’t dare to waste a second longer, turning on his heel to head into the next room. Another thing he had learned after years of spying on Zim, was where quite a _lot_ of his base’s secret entrances were. There had been a time in his life where he could have used a plethora of them, himself. Now, however, after more than one growth spurt, he was much too tall for the more compact crawlspaces. With this in mind, the human went straight towards the refrigerator, opening it up to reveal an elevator cab. He ducked his head down and stepped inside— a tight squeeze, but manageable. It was moments like this that made Dib glad he wasn’t claustrophobic.

 

“Okay, uh… let’s see. How do you usually do this? I don’t see any buttons here…”

 

_“Computer!”_ Zim interrupted, “T… Take me to… S-Sector 27.”

 

“Uhh… _are you sure?”_ came a disembodied reply, “With the _human?”_

 

“You _QUESTION_ your _MASTER?!_ _TAKE—“_ a grimace, and a pained grumble, “Take _meeee…_ Compu _TER!”_

 

_“Okay, then…”_

 

No more than a split second later, the elevator began to move, heading down into the bowels of the twisted underground base. Dib couldn’t help but wonder what might be hidden in Sector 27. Why had the computer hesitated like that? It had been given a _direct_ order! Was there something _really_ special down there? Something super _secret?_ Knowing Zim, it could be just about _anything_. Though, Dib couldn’t imagine why the IRKEN would want to be taken there if it really _was_ something wild…

 

Wandering thoughts were soon cut short by the soft hiss of elevator doors. The duo was presented with a small, mostly empty, darkened room, with only one piece of furniture set up in the very middle. Its walls were curved into a perfect cylinder, heavy wires mingling into a tangled web to create its ceiling. The only illumination inside the space was a single light strip built into the outer edges of the floor. It reached around the circumference of the room, casting light up onto the barren maroon walls.

 

The object set in the centre was a small, perfectly circular bed. Its frame was comprised of a purple coloured metal, and its surface was covered in plush pink bedding and pillows. That is, aside from a single white blanket that stood out garishly— a heating blanket Zim had purchased during his time on Earth.

 

_“Whoa…”_ Dib breathed, “I’ve never seen this place before.”

 

“That is because _no one_ has.”

 

Human brows furrowed, “Wait, what do you mean _no one?_ Not even your little robot?”

 

“No.”

 

Sector 27 was a relatively new addition to the underground base. It was a project completed out of _necessity_ , out of _desperation_. If Zim had his way, this room would _never_ have existed. There would never have been a _need_ for it. IRKEN did not require _sleep!_ What did he need a _bed_ for, let alone an _entire room_ dedicated to one?

 

There were many things about himself that Zim worked tirelessly to keep under wraps, but his defective PAK was the highest on the list. The machine that had been drilled into the alien’s very _spine_ had been corrupt from the beginning. Whether it had been a single line of warped code, or something far greater, Zim didn’t know. All he had _ever_ known was that things hadn’t been so difficult as a SMEET. Sure, the little guy may have been a tad more… _destructive_ than the others, but when it came to functionality, he wasn’t unlike his peers. His PAK did its job, kept his body running and absorbed each and every new piece of information it was given at optimal speeds. However, the older Zim got, the more that small differences began to peek through. His memories didn’t always seem to encode, and would escape him even mere _moments_ after events would occur. His back ached, and he found himself growing weary after simple rounds of training. It wasn’t until a few years into the Academy that he experienced his first _complete_ _PAK overheat_.

 

It seemed that the longer Zim was alive, the worse these symptoms became. The worse the _corruption_ became. During his nine-year stay on the little blue planet, the IRKEN had grown less and less able to go without rest. He _knew_ he should never have issues with lethargy, _knew_ he should never have the need to sleep, _knew_ his PAK should be giving him all the energy his body would ever need, and yet, Zim often found himself struggling to keep his eyes open after only a few days time. Waking up on the floor of his labs after passing out from exhaustion had become a troubling norm that wore on Zim and his carefully-built facade of functionality. Finally, the alien had broken down, and created himself a safe room in which he could comfortably rest. It was incredibly deep under the base— the deepest sector, in fact— and was heated separately from the rest of the facility, so that it may be adjusted to suit his needs. It was usually kept comfortably warm, in order to soothe the smaller’s nerves. The light strip gave off only a soft glow, so that the room remained dim, and the walls were equipped with higher soundproofing than any others in the base, to help with sensory desensitization. Sector 27 had been made _entirely_ for Zim’s own comfort, and was a secret he kept even from GIR, in an attempt to shield his pride. _No one_ but Zim had ever stepped foot into this room. **_Ever_**.

 

Dib, though perplexed by the alien’s reply, stepped out of the lift and made his way over to the circular bed. He eased his smaller companion down onto its soft, inviting surface, before moving to stand straight once more. He was stopped short by a tiny clawed hand still clinging desperately to his coat. Dib reached one of his own hands up, trying to unhook the sharp points from the fabric. Zim just held _tighter_.

 

“Zim, _c’mon…”_ he mumbled, brows furrowing as he tried to free himself. His efforts were only met with frustrated alien chittering, and Zim tugging on his trench coat.

 

“S-Stupid… _human_.” the IRKEN wheezed, his chest beginning to heave as his weakened body grew wearier. _Why_ did Dib have to make everything so _difficult?!_ Zim’s pride had taken enough of a beating as it was, he didn’t want to have to _spell it out_ for him. The short time he had spent away from the boy’s body heat already had him shivering, “Zim is… _c-cold!”_

 

“Huh? _Oh!_ Here.” Dib grabbed onto the white blanket, pulling it up so that he may reach the heat settings, and turned it on. “There we go. That better?”

 

Zim couldn’t even muster the energy to get angry. His tiny fist shook with effort as he tried to keep his hold on the human’s coat. A small, pitiful whine escaped him, and he gave another, weaker tug.

 

“Okay, _okay,_ Zim, just… take it easy!” the boy’s face contorted with concern as he crouched down to be level with the bed, “You’re overworking yourself…”

 

The _moment_ that Dib had lowered himself, Zim reached both hands out, grabbing onto either side of his trench coat. He pulled _desperately_ until the human hunched over, before pressing his forehead against Dib’s chest. The little guy gave a small chirp, shivering against his nemesis-turned-savior. Careful hands reached down to pet sleek antennae, before moving to shift the blankets back. He should have realized sooner. He _wished_ he had realized sooner. Zim’s agitation seemed to completely disappear as Dib kicked his shoes off, and scooted onto the circular bed.

 

“I’m sorry, Buddy…” he muttered, “I’m a stupid human, remember?”

 

“Mhm…”

 

Dib pulled the blankets up over the two of them, making sure to tuck them comfortably around Zim’s shivering frame. The little alien shuffled close, pressing up against the warmth of the other.

 

“Pull your legs in.” Zim spoke, peering down at the end of the bed, where Dib’s socked feet dangled over the side.

 

Once he was obeyed, and both of their bodies were free from harm, Zim reached up to a small panel at the “head” of the bed’s frame, which was decorated with a large dial, and a few glowing buttons. After pressing one, a dome began to rise from both sides of the circular metal frame, two semi-circles that met at the top, closing the two inside. A small turn of the dial caused soft light to cut through the new pitch black, the entire undersides of the dome giving off a glow. There wasn’t an overly large amount of room to move around in the small pod, and all sound was blocked by further soundproofing. All was unnaturally quiet in the chamber, causing minute sounds to seem amplified. Zim let a small breath escape him as he pulled his arm back under the blankets, his entire body seeming to ease.

 

Dib had to bend his knees to fit entirely inside the pod, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly startled by the transformation. Sure, he had aided Zim, but would that keep him from activating some kind of trap? Seeing the IRKEN soothed, however, quieted these anxieties. Despite the multitude of questions that ran through his head, Dib remained silent, unable to bring himself to shatter the serenity. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms around his extraterrestrial companion, pulling him in close. As Zim pressed against him, tiny clawed hands reached to grip the fabric of his shirt, the human stroked a hand over one of his sleek black antennae. It wasn’t long until the only sounds inside the pod were the soft breaths of sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Eyes squeezed shut and nose scrunched, consciousness slowly flickering to life. The boy could feel a presence, a body still pressed close to his own. It took him a moment to fully rouse, to collect himself and allow his memories to return. He tried to stretch his legs, only for his feet to meet the cool surface of the dome. Sounds could be heard in the silence, small utterances, thoughts that seemed to waver between spoken and not. Slowly, Dib cracked one eye open, suddenly very much aware of his crooked glasses, and glanced down at his bed-mate. It was Zim from who the noises had come, his small body twitching, face contorted in fitful sleep. Perhaps a nightmare?

 

_“No… my…”_ his words came out broken, mumbled, as if his mouth fought against his attempts at speech, _“My… Tall… est…”_

 

Frowning, Dib shifted, propping himself up onto his elbow and fixing his glasses atop his nose. The boy had always been a firm believer in superstition, sometimes to a fault, and he couldn’t help but hesitate at the thought of waking the IRKEN. _“Never wake someone up from a nightmare”,_ he had heard people warn. Or maybe it was _“never wake someone up from sleepwalking”...?_

 

_“Please… Tallest… Zim c-can…”_

 

Wait, yeah, it was _definitely_ sleepwalking.

 

_“N-No! No… no!”_

 

“Zim? H-Hey, it’s time to wake up now, Buddy!” Dib placed a careful hand onto the alien’s shoulder, shaking him slightly in an attempt to wake him, “C’mon, Zim! You’re having a nightmare!”

 

It took a few nudges, but Zim suddenly shot up with a shout, striking his head against the closed dome. He yelped, hunching slightly as his hands shot up to press over his antennae. In the dim glow, Dib could see that his frightened magenta eyes were wide open, staring off as if in a trance. His cheeks were damp.

 

“Zim…?” the boy tested, receiving no reply, “It’s okay. It was just a dream. See? Look at me…”

 

The alien flinched back as a hand was waved in his line of vision. Eyes flicked towards the human, staring, unblinking. Zim’s thoughts raced, his PAK struggling to communicate with his organic brain. Dreams, memories, was there a difference? What had really happened? Had he ever been sick at all?

 

“That’s it, see? It’s me. It’s Dib!”

 

Dib. Yes, that’s right. They had just returned to Earth, hadn’t they? He had felt so _sick,_ had been _sure_ that he was _dying._ What had happened? Why was he _alive?_ He remembered Captain’s Logs, and sugar water, and something about a planet not owned by the Empire. But they were back now. Back in the base.

 

“S… Sector 27.” he spoke aloud, in a statement, more so than a question.

 

“Yeah! Sector 27! We’re in your bed-thingy, remember?” Dib confirmed, hoping to aid in his companion’s recollection.

 

_“Sanctuary Pod.”_

 

“Huh? _Oh!_ Yeah, that’s right. Your Sanctuary Pod.” carefully, the boy reached out and took one of the IRKEN’s hands, lowering it away from his sensitive antenna, “Let’s take some deep breaths, okay? You’re safe. There we go…”

 

After relocating both of the alien’s small clawed hands, Dib gently ran his thumbs over his companion’s dampened cheeks. He had never witnessed Zim cry in his _life._ In fact, for the longest time, he didn’t even believe him _capable_ of it. Now, as a few more stray drops escaped with a blink, his error was made clear. Dib felt a pang in his chest at the sight. Despite witnessing more than one display of feeling from the alien, Zim’s range of emotion had always been a subject of question for Dib. He knew the little guy felt far more than he was supposed to, but he had never seen anything quite like this. The mighty Invader Zim reduced to tears by his own subconscious. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was a regular occurrence, wonder just how much he still didn’t know about his intergalactic adversary.

 

The moment that Dib wiped the wetness from his skin, Zim became acutely aware of his sorry state. He quickly began to rub at his eyes with the backs of his wrists, sniffling pitifully. _Crying_ in front of the _enemy!_ It was no wonder his Tallest never took him seriously as an invader! _What a disgrace._

 

“How-- How much h-have you _seen?”_

 

“Not much,” Dib lied, “I just heard you mumbling, and figured you were having a bad dream.” best to allow the little guy to hold onto what dignity he had left.

 

“Well… _Y-You were wrong!_ Zim does not have… _‘bad dreams’!”_

 

Dealing with Zim for as long as he had, Dib was expecting this type of answer. “Alright, well, I know _IRKEN_ don’t need sleep, but _humans_ do, and _this_ human is still pretty tired. I’m gonna, y’know, _get back to it.”_ the boy yawned, tucking an arm under one of the soft pink pillows, “G’night, Zim.”

 

Magenta eyes watched as the boy settled in, seemed to drift off. Sleek antennae twitched, and Zim frowned. His pride was wounded, yet he couldn’t help but feel his nerves ease, soothed by the soft breaths that permeated the silence. Slowly, the alien, too, settled back down, scooting close to Dib and pressing his small body against him once more, soaking up the warmth. It wasn’t long before he had followed the lead, falling back into slumber, only two small antennae tips peeking out from under the blankets.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a couple days late for my Friday upload, and I apologize! I've been pretty busy the past while, and had a little trouble getting this chapter finished on time! Nevertheless, here it is, chapter 9 of Eyes of Blight! 
> 
> Thanks again for the amazing support, and I hope you enjoy!

_Curse this creaking door._ No matter how quietly Dib attempted to enter his home, its hinges proudly announced his presence. He had left Zim’s base in relatively high spirits, promising that he would return with some snacks for the recovering IRKEN, under the condition that he would stay in bed and rest until he got back. In the meantime, he really needed to head home for a while. Take a shower, change his clothing, eat something other than alien fruit, tell his family he wasn’t dead. Just a few errands.

 

The feeling of dread began the moment he saw the first “missing” poster. Dib could have sworn that his stomach had sunk so low, it may as well have been sitting on the pavement in front of him. He should have _known_ that taking off to some unknown planet would prove to be an alarmingly long journey, even _with_ an alien spacecraft. He should have _known_ better than to leave without telling anyone, that his family would worry. He should have known a _lot_ of things, should have _done_ a lot of things, but he _hadn’t,_ and it was too late now. The human’s desperation had clouded his judgement, and he knew he would pay for it the moment he entered the Membrane household. By the time he reached the front steps, he had torn down five flyers, crumpling them up in his hands, obscuring his own image.

 

“Yes, I _know_ that it has been fourteen weeks! I don’t _care!_ I expect you to _continue_ your search for my _son!”_ Dib peered into the kitchen, where his father stood, shouting angrily into the telephone. “What do you _mean_ you have no more _leads?! **Find some!** ” _

 

“Uh… _Dad?”_

 

The Professor turned, his gaze falling upon his missing son. Dib was dishevelled, dirty. It really _did_ look like he had been gone 14 weeks. A voice still spoke over the telephone as it clattered to the floor, even after its back popped off and slid under the table. Firm hands gripped the young man’s shoulders.

 

_“Dib,_ my boy!” Membrane exclaimed, “I just _knew_ you would come home!”

 

“Heh… Yeah, I--”

 

“They told me too much time had passed! That it was too late! _Look at us now,_ Son! A family again!” gloves moved to grasp either side of Dib’s face, squishing his cheeks and knocking his glasses askew.

 

“Dad, listen, I wasn’t--”

 

“This calls for a _celebration!”_ the Professor wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, causing him to stumble, _“Gaz!_ Come quickly! Your _poor_ missing brother has been _found!”_

 

Dib felt absolutely _terrible._ All this time, his father had been searching for him, believing him to be lost, kidnapped, or _dead._ His excitement only caused a sick, sinking feeling in Dib’s gut, and he turned his gaze down towards the floor.

 

“Tell me, Son,” Membrane addressed him once more, “where have you _been_ this whole time?”

 

There it was again-- _that dread_ , “Well, see, Zim was--”

 

**_“Zim?”_** his father looked down at him, his mirthful expression slowly morphing into a frown, “You mean to tell me that you _ran off_ for _fourteen weeks_ on another of your _paranormal escapades?!”_

 

_“No!_ I mean, _kinda?_ But--”

 

“Do you understand what _lengths_ we have gone to in order to find you? I was lead to believe that my son had been _taken_ from me, _tossed_ into the _merciless hands_ of _danger!”_ the Professor had removed his arm from the boy’s shoulders, to instead stand in front of him. Dib felt as though his father towered over him now, much like he had when he was a child.

 

“Dad, I--”

 

**_“I don’t want to hear it!”_** came the booming response, louder than any tone Dib had ever heard come from the man, “Twenty-one years. _Twenty-one years_ I have tolerated your wild obsessions, Dib, but _no more!_ All I have _ever_ wanted was for you to discover the importance of _REAL SCIENCE,_ but instead you chose to chase after _hoaxes_ and _folktales!_ This is not what I _created you to be!”_

 

“C… _Created_ me?”

 

“It is time for you to _move on,_ Dib! I have humoured you for the _final time!”_ the man turned his back to his son, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Dad, I-- _I’m sorry!_ I _would_ have told you, but I didn’t have a lot of _time!_ Zim was going to--”

 

**_“ENOUGH!_** _Pack your things!_ **_Go!”_  **

 

Dib stood for a long moment in the middle of the kitchen, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He had so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask, but he knew it would get him nowhere. His father had never allowed him a word, never gave him the time of day, and nothing was going to change now. _Especially_ not now. Without a voice, he turned, trudging down the hallway and up the stairs. He swiped his sleeve over his eyes as he passed his sister’s room, where Gaz stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame.

 

“Maybe Dad will let me turn your room into a gaming loft.”

 

* * *

 

 

One small rolling suitcase, and his old high school backpack now held every item Dib had to his name. He had stuffed as many of his belongings into the bags as he could fit, most of which were necessities. Clothing, toiletries, the like. He had made sure to take his laptop, as it held a large portion of the information he had gathered over the years, as well as his digital camera and cell phone, though he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to use them. He had no internet access now, and he was sure his cell service had been cut off weeks ago, seeing as he hadn’t been around to pay the bill. He didn’t even want to _think_ about his job.

 

Among the more personal items he had managed to cram into his luggage, was a small keychain-- a simplistic devil character made out of wrapped yarn, adorned with wings and horns made of black felt, along with a painted smirk. Gaz had _insisted_ he take it with him, claiming it had been the _“best birthday gift he had ever managed to get her”._ Dib wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a keepsake, or if she simply wanted to get rid of the thing. He chose to believe it was the former.

 

With nowhere else to go, the newly-homeless paranormal investigator headed towards the only place he knew he was-- _somewhat--_ welcome; back to Zim’s secret base. He would have to apologise for his lack of promised snacks, make it up to him some other way while he figured out where to go from here. The boy’s entire life had done a complete 180 in what felt like the blink of an eye. He had gone from living a relatively normal 21-year-old life, alien aside, to being homeless, jobless, and unsure of where he stood with Zim. Were they still _enemies_ , after all of this? As much as he desperately craved to have some semblance of normality back in his life, Dib wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to be anymore. Not after seeing him so _vulnerable._ The boy had lost _everything_ in order to save that stupid alien’s life. Zim was all he had _left,_ now.

 

Heart beating fast against the glowing pink crystal that hung around his neck, Dib made the laborious climb up that one simple step. He stood for a moment, purple door glaring inches from his face. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to _say_ , how he was going to _carry_ himself. Should he tell him what had happened right away, or wait? Should he tell him at _all?_ It wasn’t _Zim’s_ problem, after all, even if this entire fiasco _did_ originate with him. He hadn’t _purposefully_ gotten himself sick, and he hadn’t _asked_ for Dib’s help. The boy was on his own, it seemed. No need to add any extra pressure to the IRKEN after everything he had already gone through. After allowing himself a heavy sigh, Dib reached out and turned the knob.

 

“— _my Tallest!_ Th-There must be s… _something_ that Zim can do! **_A-Anything!_** I must… pr _OVE_ my worth as an _Inv-vader!”_ the moment the door swung open, human eyes were met with the tiny form of an alien in distress, unsteady on his feet as he pleaded with the frustrated faces of his leaders, their very expressions seeming to loom over him on his television screen.

 

“What part of _‘forget this frequency’_ did you not _understand_ , Zim?” Red emphasised, leaning forward in his chair.

 

“But I… I _survived!_ Zim h… has _beaten the odds,_ and overcome an _inc-curable illness!_ Aren’t you _proud_ of me?”

 

**_“NO!”_** came the shouted reply, the word blurting in unison from both Tallest’s mouths without a second thought. Zim visibly _jumped_ at the sound, his weakened knees buckling under him, and sending him into a heap on the floor.

 

_“WHY_ can’t you just _DIE ALREADY?!”_ the red Tallest shrieked, two clawed hands reaching up to yank on his antennae, “No matter _what_ we do to get rid of you, it never seems to _WORK!_ You just _KEEP. COMING. **BACK!**_ Has that been your plan all _along_ , Zim? To _TORTURE US?!”_

 

“N… _No_ , my—“

 

_“STOP!_ JUST _STOP TALKING!”_

 

“You’re a _curse!”_ Purple added in, pointing a single claw towards the screen, “You’ve _gotta_ be! Is this because we stole snacks from the rations back in the Academy?! Were you sent to _punish_ us? What do we have to do to get you to _go away?_ Huh? _Huh?!”_

 

“Just _accept it,_ Zim! Accept that you are, and _always have been,_ **_USELESS_** to the Empire! Have you _really_ never noticed how _everything_ you do seems to end up going _horribly awry?”_ Red’s claws were now tightly gripping the arms of his chair, “You’re responsible for the deaths of **_two_** of the previous Tallest! If it wasn’t for you, _Miyuki_ would still be here. _Spork_ would still be here! Do you understand that, Zim?”

 

“I… I-I…”

 

“Well, ** _I,_** for one, am not going to _sit back_ and _wait_ until you eventually get _ME_ killed, too!”

 

The look of utter despair on his once-enemy’s face caused a pang of empathy to tear across Dib’s chest. He felt his throat tighten, and a flame begin to burn in his gut. With fists clenched, and brow furrowed, the boy stepped forward, leaving his bags behind.

 

**_“HEY!”_** he interrupted with a shout, easily pushing his way into the frame. Zim’s head shot upwards immediately, wide eyes watching the human in mortification, “You know what? _That’s enough!_ I’ve listened to you jerks _insult_ and _push Zim around_ for _years_ , but you’ve gone _way too far_ this time!”

 

“D— _Dib-thing—!”_ Zim squeaked, though his voice was lost in the heat of the boy’s adrenaline.

 

“You know, the _entire time_ he’s been here, Zim hasn’t _stopped_ trying to take over this planet? To _please_ you? I mean like, _at all!_ No matter _how many times_ he’s had to try, he just… _does!_ He’s been nothing but _loyal_ , and he’s worked _hard!_ What do _you two_ do? Sit around all day on your fancy ship and eat _junk food?_ You’re nothing but a pair of lazy **_cowards!”_**

 

Both pairs of royal eyes narrowed, their dagger gazes now fixed on the face of the human. _Very few_ had ever _dared_ to speak to a Tallest in such a fashion and lived to tell the tale. Despite their obvious displeasure, however, Dib’s resolve didn’t falter.

 

“Does _loyalty_ count for _nothing?_ Is all of the _destruction_ he has caused here _meaningless_ to you? Can’t you see a _soldier_ willing to _risk it all_ standing right in _front_ of you?! You two— _no_ , your entire _EMPIRE—_ doesn’t _deserve_ Zim! Especially not after everything you’ve _done_ to him!”

 

Not a word from either Tallest.

 

“And… and if you want Zim dead, you’ll have to answer to **_ME!”_**

 

Dib’s chest heaved, hard brown eyes sending glared daggers back from where they came. His fists had tightened so much that he could feel his nails digging into his palms as his senses began to return after the numbness of his high. Zim was still knelt on the ground, holding himself up with shaking arms. Wide, horrified magenta eyes jumped from the faces of his leaders, to Dib, and back. His thoughts were spinning, a loud mechanical whirring sound beginning to emanate from the device on his back.

 

_“Where did you get that?”_ Red’s calm, suspicious, _near-hiss_ broke the boy’s resolution completely. His tight expression shattered into one of utter confusion, as he was taken aback by the lack of counter-threats. Dib was feeling so suddenly exposed, his unpreparedness now obvious to him.

 

“Huh? Get _what—“_

 

“That _crystal.”_ the reply was nearly immediate, harder in tone, _“Where did you get it?”_

 

“Oh, uh…” Dib looked down at the Shaman’s gift, lifting it outwards so that he may get a better view, “Some blue-eyed alien gave it to me. _Why?”_

 

_“Blue eyes…”_ whispered, barely audible. Red looked warily to Purple, who shared his expression of… was that uneasiness? _Fear?_ After one last quick glance back at the screen, the crimson-clad royal leaned forwards, _“Don’t call us again,”_ and cut the transmission.

 

Both human and alien gawked at the television, its face now gone dark, good only to toss their own likenesses back at them. Neither could seem to comprehend what had happened, why things had ended so _abruptly_. A far more hostile reaction had been expected by Dib, and yet he had gotten nothing close. Zim had still been reeling from Dib’s sudden stand, that it took him a moment to even realise that the Tallest had gone.

 

Slowly, the boy turned, blinking the last of his confusion away as his eyes landed on his alien companion, crumpled where he had fallen. He knelt beside him, placing a hand on the smaller’s back, just above his life support device.

 

“Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so— _jeez,_ your PAK is _hot!”_ Dib jerked his hand away as his skin brushed against the metal, “Is that normal?!”

 

_“Why…”_ Zim croaked, the word coming out strained and broken. Magenta eyes, turned downwards, began to grow glassy. In one swift movement, the alien raised his tiny hands to begin clawing at the boy, pushing him back and smacking open palms against any part of him that he could reach, ** _“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!”_**

 

“Wh— _HEY!_ Zim, _stop—!”_ Dib’s own hands shot up in defence, attempting to shield himself from the IRKEN’s wrath, _“What did I do?!”_

 

_“THEY WILL NEVER TAKE ZIM BACK NOW! You— **YOU HAVE RUINED EVERYTHING!”**_ the alien’s voice was a _shriek_ , a _wail_ , despondent and infuriated and _hopeless_.

 

_“Zim!_ They _abandoned you!”_ the human shouted back, trying to be heard over the cries, “I was trying to _protect you!”_

 

_“YOU DO NOT **CARE** ABOUT ZIM! Y-YOU DO NOT **PROTECT** ZIM!” _

 

**_“Really?!_** Then what do you call _TAKING OFF_ on a _FOURTEEN-WEEK TRIP_ and losing both my _HOME_ and my _JOB_ in order to _SAVE YOUR LIFE?!”_

 

“You— **_YYYYOU!_** _You know **NOTHING!**_ Zim has worked so _HARD_ to be an _INVADER!_ I— my _Tallest!_ They were supposed to— **_THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO SEE!_** I-I was going to _PROVE…”_ Zim had stood himself up once more, uneasier now than he had previously been. The strange mechanical whine had grown louder, and a soft trail of smoke had begun to rise from the alien’s PAK, “P… _PROVE_ that Zim is not… _def… ect…”_

 

This time, Dib was there to catch him when he fell.

 

“Okay, _o-okay_ , you’re alright, take it easy…” carefully, Dib ran a hand back over the alien’s antennae, hoping to soothe him somehow. He could feel the heat radiating from the little metal oval on Zim’s back, and it gave him a sickening feeling. There was _no way_ it wasn’t _burning_ him, “Zim, _tell me what to do_ about your PAK!”  

 

“D… Do not _t-touch!”_ came a croaked reply, “Burn… w-will _burn…!”_

 

“What’s _happening?!”_

 

Zim hid his face, small clawed hands now moving to grip the boy’s coat. His back arched inward, as if he were trying to escape the PAK’s touch. What colour he had regained had drained once more from his face, and beads of sweat had begun to break out on his brow. When he spoke, it was reluctant, and with pain, _“Over…_ _O-Overheating—_ “

 

Dib frowned, panic building in his chest. _Overheating?!_ A device created by an _advanced alien species,_ made _specifically_ to keep them from _dying_ was capable of _overheating?!_ The human found himself at a loss, one arm holding Zim, the other hand hovering dumbly over his PAK. _“What do I do?!”_

 

_“WAIT!_ J… Just… _wait!”_ the IRKEN hissed, “Will… _pass.”_

 

_Waiting_ was easier said than done. The same uselessness that had taken root in the forefront of Dib’s mind back during their fourteen-week journey had begun to blossom once more as he watched Zim writhe under the searing metal. The little guy had managed to get himself awfully worked up, and it seemed he was paying the price. The human decided it best to drop their argument, allow Zim a win, move on. It just wasn’t worth the suffering. The IRKEN needed time to heal, both physically and mentally, and riling him up only proved to be dangerous.

 

As the PAK slowly cooled, the strain on its components dying down and allowing it to function _(relatively)_ smoothly once more, Zim’s body went limp in the human’s arms. His small chest heaved, antennae pinned back against his head, smoothed by a careful hand. Any regained energy had left him now, leaving nothing more than an empty shell behind. Dib could have sworn he felt something damp against his shirt, where Zim had been hiding his face…

 

“... Have… you really… lost your home?” the question startled Dib, who had been sitting in relative silence as he waited for his companion to recover. He looked down at Zim, brown eyes meeting one of magenta, peeking out at him from against his own clothing. One glance at the dark steaks on his green cheek told him exactly what the dampness had been.

 

“Uh… yeah.” the boy replied with a sigh, reaching one hand up to run back through his hair, “I did.”

 

_“... How?”_

 

A pause, and a frown, “Dad kicked me out. Told me he didn’t want to deal with my _‘paranormal escapades’_ anymore.”  

 

That single, pupil-less eye frowned, “Zim d… does not understand.”

 

“It means I’m _homeless_ , Zim. Like, I have nowhere to _live_ anymore.” Dib turned his gaze away, eyes scanning the familiar surroundings, “I don’t know what I’m going to do from here.”

 

Silence reigned once more, though this one shorter than the last, “Zim h… has been… in search of a _h-human slave.”_ the alien spoke, though his voice sounded uncertain, as though he was trying to rationalise something in his own mind, “They would s… stay _here_ in th… the _base_ , of course.”

 

It took Dib a moment to realise what the little IRKEN was doing. Emotions were all but _banned_ in Zim’s society, and acts of _kindness_ went hand-in-hand with feelings of _sympathy_ , of _empathy_. However, there were always _loopholes_ that one could jump through in an attempt to justify one’s actions. With a quirk of a brow, Dib offered a lop-sided smile down at his extraterrestrial companion, “Oh, yeah?”

 

“Eh… _yes_. Though my efforts have been… _unsuccessful_. So far.” Zim quickly averted his gaze the moment it met the human’s, “Zim… does not s… suppose you know a willing… _victim?”_

 

Dib couldn’t hold back the exhausted laugh that bubbled up within his chest, spilling messily forth as he scratched idly at the base of one of the IRKEN’s antennae, “I think I know just the guy.”

 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter! Things in real life have been taking priority over writing, but I'm definitely still working on this! Please bear with me if chapters come out on a bit of a sporadic schedule for a while! 
> 
> As for the contents of this chapter, I'm super excited to show it to you! We're finally learning some things, and officially introducing one of our mysterious characters!

* * *

 

 

Over the past 9 years, not _once_ did Dib ever think he would end up living with _Zim._ The very _thought_ would have been _laughable_ at best to the adolescent paranormal investigator. He, the sworn defender of Earth, living with a hostile alien Invader? Not in _his_ lifetime! Though, the IRKEN didn’t seem so hostile now. 

 

Just a little over a month had passed since the boy had officially relocated, and although Zim had nearly completed his physical recovery, his mental state remained worse for wear. He had stopped leaving his base altogether, often spending his time down below. He didn’t speak much when the two crossed paths, and the odd time he did, his words barely held any weight at all. Dib had originally assumed that the alien’s reclusiveness was simply due to healing. After all, the little guy had hooked himself up to some pretty hefty medical devices after his last call to the Tallest, which immobilized him for some time. The boy didn’t even want to _think_ about the painful blood removal process he had witnessed the Computer perform on Zim, though he supposed it had to be done. Without a proper supply of pain aids at his disposal, Dib couldn’t help but grimace along with his companion each time the long, syringe-like apparatus punctured the IRKEN’s torso, bright pink liquid swirling up through connected tubes. It was like nothing he had ever seen in a _human_ hospital before. Thankfully, whatever the Shaman had given him seemed to make quick work of his internal wounds, and no more invasive procedures were required to remedy the _squeedilyspooch_ damage. 

 

Dib’s new worries began to take root as the alien’s absence continued past his physical recovery. Even after he had grown stronger, regained his ability to walk on his own, take care of himself, he still stayed hidden in the lower levels of the base. After knowing Zim for so many years, Dib had a sneaking suspicion that his unusual behavior stemmed from the loss of his mission, not his physical condition. Zim always felt that he needed a _purpose_ , needed a way to _prove himself,_ and without a way to do so, the boy could only assume that the smaller was feeling more than a little lost. Perhaps they were both alike in that regard.  

 

Today, while Dib was lounging on the couch, allowing himself to indulge in some old Saturday-morning cartoons, Zim had quietly entered the room, holding two familiar red-and-purple containers of IRKEN LICKY STICKS _—_ his favorite. The boy was still wrapped up in his blanket, curled into his pillow as if he had just woken up. The couch _had_ become his bed, after all, much to the dismay of a certain little robot. When the alien stepped in front of the television, expression sullen and deep bags under his eyes, Dib sat up, his glasses sitting crooked on his nose. Using the mechanical spider legs built into his PAK, Zim hoisted himself up into the new vacancy left by the human, and held one of the snacks out towards him. 

 

“What are you watching?” he asked halfheartedly, slumping in his seat. 

 

“Oh, uh, just some dumb cartoon.” Dib replied, crossing his bare legs under the blanket now loosely draped over his lap. He hadn’t gotten himself dressed yet today, and was still clad in an old t-shirt and boxer shorts, “You get bored down there all by yourself?”

 

“Mhm.” 

 

Zim said nothing more, his attention only passively directed towards the television screen. He dipped his candy into the sugary powder as sunken eyes watched bright colors dance in front of them, before sticking it into his mouth. Although Dib found the IRKEN confectionery to be sickeningly sweet, he still made an effort to mirror the alien’s action, allowing the powder to melt on his tongue. He had learned of Zim’s ration limitations a few years back, and he suspected those shipments wouldn’t be coming any longer. He’d hate to waste the last of the real IRKEN food Zim had left. 

 

Watching the alien quietly, Dib couldn’t help but feel a pang in his chest at the sight of his weary expression. It was as if he wasn’t even the same Zim anymore. What had happened to the little menace, full of boundless energy and dead-set on conquering the planet? Where had he gone? Was he ever coming back? 

 

“Hey… you doing okay?” 

 

“Yes.” Zim’s response was quick, dismissive. 

 

A pause, as Dib attempted to choose his words carefully. Perhaps a distraction was a wiser move? “You ever watch this show before?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Maybe not. 

 

Dib had never been skilled at comforting others. Comfort was not something he had often received in childhood _—_ he and Gaz both _—_ and thus he had always struggled with the concept of _sympathy,_ let alone _empathy._ This had changed as he had grown, had matured, though he could never claim them as his strong suits. Here, in this moment, the boy was at a loss. What was he supposed to say that could possibly make this better? _“Sorry that your biggest mission was actually exile in disguise”?_ Absolutely not. 

 

“What is _this_ thing?” 

 

He hadn’t even realized that he had been staring off blindly until he heard Zim speak. The question roused Dib from his thoughts, and he turned his gaze back towards the alien. In his grasp, Zim held the glowing pink crystal, which Dib had taken off for the night. It looked so much larger in the IRKEN’s tiny hands, as he turned it over and over, inspecting it closely. 

 

“Oh! That’s a crystal I got from the Shaman over on that second healer’s planet. I’m not sure if you remember her.”

 

 _“Zim remembers her.”_ the alien grumbled, a small clawed hand moving to press against his middle, “How did you even _find_ that planet?” 

 

“I guess you don’t remember _everything,_ huh?” Dib offered a sympathetic, lop-sided smile, “We met a stranger on MEDICINA who gave me a note with the coordinates written on it. It was super cryptic, and she even knew our _names_ and stuff. I was seriously _—_ ” a pause, and brown eyes widened, “Oh _shit,_ the _note!”_

 

Zim jumped at the sudden exclamation, dropping the crystal onto the floor. He watched in confusion as Dib scrambled up off of the couch, stumbling over his blanket in the process. With antennae perked upwards, the IRKEN leaned forward in order to watch the boy rummage through his suitcase and pull out his black trench coat. He fished through the pockets, pulling out a slightly crumpled note.

 

 _“Aha!”_ Dib blurted, standing and moving to hold the paper out to Zim, “I totally forgot that this thing had a message I was supposed to give you! It’s on the back. I think it’s some kind of code?”

 

With his brow furrowed, and antennae pinned back once more, Zim took the note from the human’s hand. His frown only deepened as his eyes scanned the written words, and the message that had been left for him. _Batch 43sub12 #762._

 

“So? _What is it?”_ the human pressed, craning his neck to get a better look, “The activation key to some _super-secret alien doomsday device?”_

 

 _“Eh?_ This is just a PAK encoding number!” Zim huffed, “An _old_ one.” 

 

“A _what?”_

 

A heavy sigh escaped the IRKEN, before he began to elaborate, “A _PAK encoding number._ It’s a _fancy identification number_ worker drones assign to each and every PAK after completing its creation. It’s all based on which new batch of PAKs is being processed, which PAK-MAKER MACHINE it comes from, its place in line, blah blah blah, _YOU GET IT!_ It’s used for _tracking_ and _establishing communication transmissions_ and stuff.” 

 

 _“Wait!”_ the boy leaned in, “What was that last thing you said?”

 

“Stuff?”

 

“No, _before_ that!”

 

Zim paused, quirking an antenna, _“... Blah blah blah?”_

 

 _“NO!_ Zim, just _—_!” groaning, Dib ran his hands down over his face, _“Communication._ You said it could be used for _communication!”_

 

“So?”

 

 _“So,_ let’s, y’know, _communicate_ with it!” 

 

The alien frowned, looking back down at the paper in his clawed hands. His antennae flicked, and he raised a brow up at Dib, “You know that this PAK was made _850 Earth cycles ago,_ don’t you? This guy is already _halfway through his life!_ He’s probably some sort of _Elite_ by now! Eh, if he’s not already _dead.”_

 

It was Dib’s turn to knit his brows, and shake his head, “This code was given to us for a _reason,_ Zim. I’m _certain_ that they want us to use it. I don’t know what for, or why, but after they _saved your life,_ I’m willing to follow their lead, even if it _is…_ kinda cryptic.” 

 

Zim was quiet a moment, simply staring down at the note and chewing absently on his LICKY STICK. He wasn’t so sure about just _contacting_ some _random IRKEN._ What if they weren’t even _meant_ to call them? What if they were supposed to use the number in some _other_ way? What if he got into some kind of _trouble?_ Glancing up at Dib, magenta eyes met the hopeful expression in those of deep brown, and Zim heaved a heavy sigh, _“COMPUTER!_ Establish a transmission link with 43 dash 12 dash 762.” 

 

Static burst forth from the television screen as the Computer obeyed the command of its master. Dib, now facing the appliance, slowly shifted back to sit on the couch once more. The buzz of the open airwaves droned on for some time, long after Zim had decided this a lost cause. Even the boy was beginning to waver, until in an instant, the snow dissipated, giving way to a wary three-eyed gaze. The moment the alien on screen saw the unlikely pair, her face lit up. 

 

“Human Dib! IRKEN Zim! I knew you would call!” she exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across her face, “It’s so good to see you again!” 

 

Dib recognized this alien’s features as being not unlike those he had met on Kestasis; yellow skin, stripes, and feelers. She was even clad in the same garb, and wore a crystal to match his own. One thing set her apart, however; _she spoke English._

 

 _“Again?”_ Dib ventured, preparing to air his suspicions, “Are you… the stranger we met on MEDICINA?” 

 

“That’s me!” the alien replied, her three green eyes shining with excitement, “You always were a smart one!” 

 

“Uh… right. Listen, we _—_ ” 

 

“WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ZIM, NERLONIAN _SCUM?!”_ the IRKEN suddenly blurted, springing up to stand on the couch cushion, his half-full container of LICKY STICK powder spilling onto the floor, “Is this a _THREAT?!”_

 

Outrage was only met with laughter, a sound that carried a hint of melody, “It’s good to see you’re feeling better, IRKEN Zim. We were all really worried about you!” she gave another, shorter chuckle, and an amused shake of her head, “Look at me, getting ahead of myself again! My name’s Ria! I’m one of the head Nerlonian healers over on Kestasis! Sorry I missed your visit, I was off duty at the time.” 

 

Dib was quick to whip around, place his hands onto his IRKEN roommate’s shoulders, and attempt to sit him back down. Zim resisted, grabbing onto the boy’s wrists with small clawed hands, “Uh, yeah, it’s nice to meet you, Ria. You already know Zim and I somehow, so _—_ ”

 

 _“UNHAND ME THIS INSTANT,_ HUMAN _WORM!”_

 

“Zim, _quit it!”_ Dib hissed under his breath, before turning a sheepish smile back towards the television screen, “Don’t mind him, he doesn’t _really_ mean what he says.”

 

 _“YES I DO!”_ the IRKEN protested, “YOU DO NOT SPEAK FOR ZIM!”

 

Further laughter escaped through the speakers as Ria watched the two bicker. She didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the sight, as if she was completely accustomed to it. This only worked to anger Zim further. 

 

 _“SILENCE! SILENCE YOUR LAUGHING IMMEDIATELY!”_ he snapped, squirming away from Dib, who dove to try and catch him as he stormed towards the television. His PAK legs deployed, raising him up so that he may lean in and glower at the screen, “You think that you have tricked Zim?! _FOOLISH NERLONIAN GERM!_ You will not be so cheerful when I _report you_ for fabricating a _PAK signature!”_

 

“Fabricating? Oh, no, you’re misunderstanding! This signature isn’t fake, it’s just been rerouted to a standalone Nerlonian communicator! Easier to conceal the signal that way.” Ria replied, not at all intimidated by the mechanical legs, or the new proximity to the agitated IRKEN. 

 

 _“LIES!_ No IRKEN in their _right mind_ would reroute their PAK signature into a piece of Nerlonian _GARBAGE TECH!”_

 

Zim suddenly felt a hand grab the hem of his tunic from behind, tugging him backwards, causing his spider legs to stumble. Dib was getting _pretty tired_ of all of these accusations with few answers. The entire ordeal had been more than a little confusing so far, and the boy felt he needed to voice his questions quickly before Zim said something they would _all_ regret. 

 

“So, Ria, if this PAK signature thing really _is_ connected to an IRKEN, why didn’t _they_ answer this call? Where are they? And… _why_ did you give the number to us in the first place?” 

 

“What a shame, I thought you of all people would have figured that out, Human Dib!” the healer teased, “This signature belongs to the Crystal Shaman!” 

 

Dib’s face blanked, and he stood, dumbstruck, for a moment, simply gawking at the transmission feed. Those pupilless blue eyes, that strange language… no _wonder_ it had seemed so familiar! The Shaman… 

 

“... she’s _IRKEN.”_  
  
“Bingo!” Ria exclaimed, “Give the human a prize!” 

 

Dib held a hand up, shaking his head with a frown. Something still didn’t add up, “Wait wait wait, hang on a second! I thought you told me that your area of space was _hostile_ to IRKEN?” 

 

“Oh, _it is._ The Shaman is… a bit of an exception.” the Nerlonian giggled amusedly at this, “Her name is _Savi._ She’s an IRKEN rogue that fled her planet after an attempted rebellion turned sour. I found her on the outskirts of our end of the galaxy, all beat up and sick. She’s been living on Nerlon with us and working as a healer on Kestasis ever since! She’s kinda something of a celebrity here, actually.” 

 

Ria barely had enough time to allow the words to fully leave her mouth before Zim interjected, his voice suddenly filled with a newly ignited form of rage, _“YOU FILTHY, LYING **RAT-BEAST!**_ The Rebel Savi has been dead for _TENS OF MEEPS!_ The ALMIGHTY TALLEST _DESTROYED HER_ along with her _MISERABLE BETRAYERS!_ You _DARE_ to speak of such a _WRETCHED TREASONIST_ as if she still _WALKS?!”_

 

“Uh, _yeah,_ ‘cause she _does.”_ Ria simply smirked, leaning her head in one hand, “I’m telling you the truth, IRKEN Zim. Savi didn’t die. The Tallest _lied_ to you. Lied to _all_ of you. But that’s not really all that surprising, is it?” the laugh that followed devolved into a snort. 

 

“Non _SEEENSE!_ The Tallest would _NEVER_ lie to _—_ they would _NEVER…!”_ Zim’s voice trailed off, the anger both on his face and in his tone seeming to waver, to crack. He suddenly felt as though he would choke on the lump that had formed in his throat. 

 

 _“H-Hey,_ I think that’s enough!” Dib interposed, placing a hand onto Zim’s shoulder. Slowly, the alien sunk back down into his seat, magenta eyes unblinking and suddenly blank, _“That’s enough.”_

 

“Oh, shoot, I’m sorry! I forget that Tallest jokes probably aren’t funny to a loyalist…” 

 

 _“Listen,”_ the word sounded far harsher than the boy had meant it, “... Listen. Zim and I are… _stressed._ This whole… _thing_ has been pretty taxing on the both of us, and the _cryptic messages_ and _spoken riddles_ aren’t helping. We just want _answers. **I.**_ Just want answers. If you can’t give that to us, I think it’s time we ended this.” 

 

 _“Wait!”_ Ria felt her heart leap into her throat, her adrenaline spike. The feelers on either side of her temples raised in alarm, _“Don’t go!_ Look, I promise we’re not trying to confuse you, and I wish I could have given you answers sooner! But… things are complicated, and things are… _dangerous._ Safety precautions have to be taken, you know? But I _get it!_ I do! That’s why I gave you Savi’s PAK encoding number in the first place! So that you could talk to her in a more _secure_ location. The ARMADA can’t track this signal, see?” she shook her head, “I’m sorry that this has been such a nightmare for you both, but… I can answer your questions now. For real this time.”  

 

Dib’s hand gently squeezed Zim’s shoulder. The Nerlonian’s words seemed genuine enough, but the boy had reason to be skeptical. Neither Ria nor the Shaman _—_ _Savi—_ had been straightforward with him from the start. Who’s to say they would start now? Though there was always that second factor, the other end of the coin, that pushed him to believe; _they had saved Zim’s life._ Finally, after a long moment of hesitance, the human heaved a sigh. 

 

“Alright, _fine._ Yeah. If you’re willing to give me some straight answers now, let me talk to Savi.” 

 

Ria smiled sheepishly, clasping her hands together in front of herself, “She… can’t talk right now.”

 

_“What do you **mean** she **can’t talk right now?!”**_

 

 _“Hold on, hold on!_ I _promise_ there’s a good reason!” those hands were quickly raised in a universal surrender, in hopes that she could calm the boy, “Human Dib, you need to know that the IRKEN and the Nerlonians have been at war for a _long time._ They sent an Invader to our planet _years_ ago. It was close, but they didn’t end up successfully conquering. Since then, they’ve made _four more full-scale Invasion attempts_ , all ending in victory for Nerlon. We’d never even had a single _soldier_ before the IRKEN arrived, and now we’ve got an _entire military.”_ Ria crossed her arms over her chest, “Ever since Savi came to live with us, she’s been helping to keep our planet safe, and our people healthy, and in return, we do the same for her. Like I told you, she’s a rogue. The ARMADA is constantly on the lookout for her, and this side of the galaxy is like a dead zone for IRKEN tech.”

 

“Why are you telling me this? What does this have to do with my question?!” 

 

“Recently, someone tipped the Tallest off to where Savi has been hiding. The ARMADA launched a fifth attack on the planet, and although the _cockroaches_ still couldn’t take us, Savi didn’t get out unscathed this time. She’s not _dead,_ but… she’s not doing so well.”

 

Dib’s form suddenly went rigid, brown eyes widening in panic, “She’s _hurt?!”_

 

“Unfortunately. Took a blast of plasma straight to the _gut_. Nothing vital was hit, but she’s got a gnarly wound.” the medic paused to look over her shoulder, though nothing could be seen on screen, “Most of the other healers have gone with the Nerlonian military to chase the ARMADA back onto their side of the galaxy, make sure they’re good and gone. It’s just me and a few others here for now, a few wounded soldiers, too. They _wanted_ me to go, but… I couldn’t leave Sav back here with someone that _wasn’t_ me.” her grip on her arms tightened, and her expression grew spiteful. When she spoke once more, her voice held a new bite, a venom, and it came as more of a mutter to no one in particular, _“Just when you think they’ve done all the damage they can do…”_

 

 _“Ria,_ she _—_ she’ll be _fine,_ right?” any irritation that the human had once carried had vanished, replaced with a growing sense of dread. After the Shaman had aided the duo, had pulled Zim back from the brink of death, had saved Dib’s purpose, it had been _them_ who had given her away. The call to the Tallest, their strange behavior, their questions about the crystal, Dib’s mention of a _blue-eyed alien;_ the final pieces of a long, ongoing jigsaw puzzle. One that spelled doom for a savior, _“Tell me she’ll be alright.”_

 

Unease seemed to overcome the Nerlonian, all three of her emerald green eyes averting, flicking downwards as she squeezed her arms once more. She took in a slow sigh, shifting her weight to one foot, “I dunno, Human Dib. I want to say yes, but I don’t want to lie to you. Savi’s real tough, but she’s not young. Been through a lot, you know? A body can only heal so many times.” a pause, “I guess I’ll just say… _here’s hoping,_ and leave it at that.” 

 

“There _—_ There has to be something we can _do,_ right? She _must_ have some kind of _miracle cure_ like she had for Zim! Can’t we just _—_ ”

  
_“Listen,_ Human Dib,” a third anxious glance over her shoulder, “I have to go. We can talk again in the future, okay? It was nice to meet you for real. Don’t lose this frequency.” and with that, static filled the screen once more, leaving the duo in a bath of white noise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Ria! Our mysterious stranger!   
> Ria is part of an original alien species of mine; the Nerlonians! Once everyone in this fic is properly introduced, I'll link some artwork of them from my deviantART!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zim contracts a strange IRKEN illness, Dib must attempt to find a cure. Will he find it in time? What mysteries will he uncover along the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Enter the Florpus came out a few days ago! It was fantastic, I really enjoyed it! It was great to see some brand new canon Zim content. I'd love to hear what you guys thought of it! And if you haven't seen it yet, what are you waiting for? It's on Netflix! Abuse those free trials if you have to! Gooo! 
> 
> As for the Eyes of Blight canon, I'm unfortunately going to have to say that the events of Florpus don't happen. It would kinda mess up the story, sadly! But that's alright, this IS an AU after all! 
> 
> All things said, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I'm always so excited to read your comments!

* * *

 

 

_“No.”_

 

“Zim, _come on!”_ Dib leaned in a little from his place on the floor, knelt in front of the couch where Zim had seated himself once more. The IRKEN was slumped, arms crossed tight across his chest. He wore a deep scowl, though he refused to look at the boy. 

 

“I said _no!_ Absolutely _not!_ ”

 

“You’re being _completely_ unreasonable!”  

 

_“UNREASONABLE?!_ Has your hearing _gone_ , Dib-worm?!” Zim sat up, claws digging into the fabric of the cushion as he finally shot his defiant glare towards Dib, “She is a _TRAITOR!_ A _STAIN_ on the face of the _MIGHTY IRKEN EMPIRE!”_

 

It was Dib’s turn to scowl, brows knit tightly behind round frames, “Yeah? Well that _“stain”_ is the reason you’re _alive_ right now, and she wouldn’t be hurt at _all_ if it wasn’t for _us!_ Going there is the _least_ we could do!” 

 

“She would not be harmed if it was not for _YOU!”_ Zim spat back, shoving a single pointed claw into the boy’s face, _“NONE_ of this would have happened if you had not _interrupted_ my _transmission_ in the _FIRST PLACE!_ The Tallest never would have _SEEN_ that stupid glowy _ROCK-thing!”_

 

_“Hey!”_ Dib reached up and moved the alien’s hand back downwards, “I was _trying_ to stand up for you! Those jerks treat you like _sh--”_

 

“Zim does not _NEED_ your _HELP!”_ in an instant, the IRKEN was standing, fists clenched by his sides as he glared down at Dib, “What I _NEED_ is to be left _ALONE,_ so that I may review my options! I know there must be _SOME_ way that I can appease my Tallest, but I am _certain_ they will never take me back if they were to find out I had been associating with a _FILTHY REBEL!”_

 

_“They aren’t **GOING** to take you **BACK,** Zim!” _the boy’s voice was loud, frustrated, and his sudden grip on the alien’s shoulders made Zim’s breath stop short, _“ **WHY** can’t you **UNDERSTAND** that?!”_

 

_Silence._ So suddenly, and so much of it, that Dib felt he may _suffocate._ The boy had never witnessed Zim deflate so quickly, his all-too-familiar scowl dropping immediately into pained shock. Dib was quick to release his grip, regret already seizing his chest, and forming a pit in his stomach. With antennae flattened back, the alien seemed to shrink, his arms moving to hug his knees to his chest. He looked so _small_ and _vulnerable. Pitiful_ , as if Dib had physically struck him. 

 

_“Zim,_ I…” the boy reached his hand out, but pulled it back when the IRKEN flinched away, _“I’m sorry.”_  

 

After a wordless moment, Dib rose slowly from the floor, grabbing his blanket. He brushed the LICKY STICK powder from his knees, before flopping backwards onto the empty side of the couch. Zim pressed himself a little closer to the arm of his seat, face averted, as the boy curled up with his own legs near his chest, and wrapped himself up tight. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, glasses sliding to hang from the tip of his nose as he slumped down. The two sat in silence for what felt like hours, neither daring to so much as glance towards the other. Static had long ago vacated the television’s face, leaving only an empty void behind. A dark mirror that perfectly framed the unlikely pair. 

 

“You… _also…_ think that Zim is useless?” came a small, strained voice, _“Like the Tallest?”_  

 

Dib was startled by his companion’s words; by the sudden sound, and their meaning combined. He turned his gaze upwards, staring into the inky reflection of the alien, whose black eyes remained downturned. 

 

_“What?”_ he breathed, _“No,_ Zim, I…” a falter, a pause, “I don’t think you’re _useless._ I don’t think that at _all.”_

 

“But… you believe that my Tallest will never allow me to return to my position! Because--  Because I am a _horrible Invader!”_

 

_“No!_ That’s not what I meant!” Dib sat upright, crossing his legs as he finally turned to look at the IRKEN. Zim still had his face averted, but the boy could see him fiddling with one of his antennae, smoothing it down each time it would spring back up. An attempt to self-soothe, he imagined, “Didn’t you hear what I said to your leaders? They don’t _deserve you,_ Zim! You work too hard to be pushed around by a couple of _jerks,_ no matter how much _power_ they have!” when the alien remained silent, Dib sighed, running a hand back over his hair, “Listen, Zim, I know this is probably… hard. Trust me, I really _do_ know. But I also think that this can be… _good._ And I don’t mean for _me_ , or for _Earth_. I mean for _you.”_

 

Hesitantly, the alien peered in Dib’s direction, if only slightly. It was enough for the boy to see the darkened streaks that trailed down his green cheeks, _“...How?”_

 

“Well, in a lot of ways! You won’t have to stress yourself out over new plans anymore! And since you aren’t trying to hurt my planet or my people now, we can be… friends! Maybe? If you wanted? I mean, I already live here and stuff…” 

 

Despite Dib’s hopeful expression, Zim had turned away again, still messing with an antenna, “IRKEN do not need… _friends.”_

 

Another sigh escaped the boy, though he couldn’t help the small half-smile that crept onto his face. It may have been far more subdued than he had grown accustomed to, but that was a Zim-like reply if he had ever heard one, “Alright, not friends, then. How about we try and be… whatever you _IRKEN_ call someone that you don’t hate?” 

 

Zim paused, frowned. Glancing fully back, the alien considered Dib with nervous uncertainty, “How… do I do that?” 

 

_“Well,_ for _starters,_ you _could_ come with me to Nerlon.” 

 

* * *

 

 

If Dib had learned one thing about Zim after all these years, it was that his actions could most times be described as _sudden_ and _impulsive_. Zim often didn’t think before jumping straight into something, whether that _“something”_ was dangerous or not. When he had jumped up off of the couch without a word, note in hand, the boy had scrambled to follow him-- though not without snatching his coat up from its place on the floor first, that is. Hoisting the fabric hastily over his shoulders, his significantly longer strides soon caught up with Zim, who had marched his way into the base’s makeshift kitchen. 

 

“Hey, wait! Hang on a second!” Dib plead, _“Zim!_ Where are you going?”

 

The alien retained his silence, not bothering to so much as gaze back at the human until he had opened the refrigerator door, and stepped into the hidden elevator cab. Now turned, his hands held neatly behind his back, the IRKEN gave a curt gesture, jerking his head once to the side, as if to say _“get in, already!”._ Dib followed the unspoken order, stooping in order to squeeze into the lift, though he did so with confusion. As the two began to descend, neon pink lights flashing against the boy’s glasses, Dib couldn’t help but speak up once more. 

 

“You know, I really thought we had made some kind of, I don’t know, _connection_ or something back there. Like, maybe you were actually listening to me for once! You really had me thinking you were going to make this _easy.”_ a frustrated laugh escaped him, “I’ve never met someone as stubborn as you, Zim, you know that? I don’t know why I even--”

 

“It took you seven Earth weeks in order to reach that _healer’s planet_ , did it not?” 

 

Dib stared down at Zim a moment, who held his militant stance, eyes directed forwards, “Uh… yeah, it did. Why?” 

 

“The _FILTHY_ planet of _Nerlon_ is positioned even further, still. Do you think that the rebel’s fate will just _wait_ for you to arrive?” 

 

“I… hadn’t thought of that.” the boy rubbed the back of his neck anxiously as Zim’s point was made clear. Savi was injured _now._ If something was going to happen to her, it wouldn’t wait for seven weeks, “But, there must be _something_ that we can--”

 

“Ever since my plan to _HURL_ you and the rest of your _disGUSting_ human _“CLASSmates”_ into a _world of moosey DOOM_ fell through, I have been working with the possibility of _wormhole-based_ travel.” when the elevator doors slid open, Zim stepped forwards without missing a beat, entering his lab with a familiar goosestep, “With the same methods I used to harness the wormhole’s power before, I have devised a system that, _in theory,_ should allow me to track nearby anomalies, and calculate my exit once inside.” small clawed fingers typed swiftly across a touch-sensitive keyboard, pulling up schematics on a screen above them, “I _should_ be able to attach this _WORMNAV device_ to the VOOT’s built-in navigation console, and use it to _propel myself_ through the _PITIFUL galaxy_ with the speed of a fully-grown _SHMORSQUITZ!”_  

 

Dib stepped forwards, eyes widening as he leaned forwards over his alien companion, taking in each detail of the WORMNAV schematics. The boy had never truly allowed himself to admit it before, but Zim was… _incredibly_ intelligent. _Sure,_ he often made _horrible_ decisions that ultimately caused the downfall of his own carefully-constructed doomsday schemes, but at the end of the day, not everyone could claim they had the skills to take control of a wormhole, or build a ship that could shrink down small enough to enter a human body. Well, maybe Dib’s father, but that didn’t count. They weren’t on speaking terms. 

 

_“Wow,_ Zim, this is… _really_ impressive.” the boy confessed, adjusting his glasses atop his nose, “You built this yourself?” 

 

Zim’s antennae perked, and he stole a glance back at Dib. Was he… _praising_ him? 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“And you think this can help us get to Nerlon faster?” 

 

“Yes.”

 

“Does it _work?”_

 

“Ye-- _eh…_ Yes?” 

 

Dib’s eyes narrowed, and he crouched down to Zim’s level. With his brow furrowed, he rested his arms on his legs, leaning forwards on the balls of his feet, “ _Zim?_ Does it _work?”_

 

_“OF COURSE IT WORKS!”_ the alien snapped back, antennae twitching in annoyance, _“YOU KNOW NOTHING!”_

 

“Alright… so you’ve _tested_ it?” Dib pressed, though his voice lacked its usual malicious undertones. 

 

Zim shifted nervously on his feet, hands moving to grip his upper arms as he averted his gaze. He was silent a moment, magenta eyes searching the floor, “Eh… _no.”_  

 

Of course not. Dib had expected this, and yet, somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. Instead, an empathetic smile crossed his face, and he shook his head, reaching a hand out to place atop the IRKEN’s shoulder, “Well, I guess there’s no time like the present, huh?” 

 

The way the IRKEN’s antennae perked back up, and the way his face seemed to brighten as he glanced back towards him, was not lost on Dib. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you _sure_ we can’t connect this wormhole thingy to _my_ ship?” 

 

_“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”_ Zim retorted, climbing into the cockpit of his little VOOT CRUISER, “The WORMNAV was created _specifically_ for _MY_ ship! _BESIDES!_ I _REFUSE_ to pilot that hunk of _SCRAP METAL_ left behind by… _TAK!”_ the name was spat, as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. 

 

_“Hey!_ I’ve done a lot of work on that ship, you know! Including making the chair a bit more, uh… _human friendly.”_ Dib emphasized his point, eyes wandering over the VOOT’s tiny pilot’s chair. How was he, at 6’3”, going to fit in there? 

 

“Yes, sure, whatever.” 

 

It was obvious to Dib that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with this. Zim had already begun to open up a panel in the VOOT’s dashboard, most likely to ready it for WORMNAV installation. The boy may have tried to push his case a little harder, if he hadn’t been a bit reluctant, himself, to take another long trip in the SPITTLE RUNNER. He wasn’t really ready to relive all of that fear and anxiety again. Instead, he relented with a sigh, opting to watch as Zim worked. The alien was diligent in his task, highly focused and surprisingly careful. Dib had always wondered how he kept his little old ship running the way it did, considering it was made entirely of garbage parts. He leaned over the side, causing the hull to rock slightly in the opposite direction, gaining a chitter of annoyance from Zim. 

 

“Sorry, Spaceboy. Didn’t realize that mighty IRKEN vessels were so easy to push around.” Dib smirked, gaining himself another, angrier bug-like sound from the alien, “Alright, alright, I’ll keep it down. But you’ve gotta let me watch!”

 

True to his word, the boy kept his mouth shut through the remainder of the installation process, though he found it difficult to keep himself from asking questions now and then. He wished that Zim would teach him about his ship-- about _both_ of their ships-- but he knew that they still had a ways to go before the little guy would trust him enough for that. Maybe someday he’d be willing to tell him more about IRK, and what it was like there, too. 

 

_“THERE!”_ Zim exclaimed, straightening himself out of a hunched position. His antennae stood upwards on his head, and he puffed out his chest as he stood up in the pilot’s seat, hands on his hips, “Pretty neat, huh?”

 

“You know, it _is_ pretty neat.” Dib replied with a rather amused smile, leaning in a little further in an attempt to get a better look at the thing. The movement of the VOOT threw Zim off balance, and he toppled backwards onto the floor of the cockpit, only his little black boots left hanging onto the chair. The boy couldn’t help but laugh, covering his mouth when he produced an unintentional snort. He stood, moving to toss a leg up and over the side of the ship, climbing inside. In one fluid motion, Dib reached down, hauled Zim up by the arms, sat down in the pilot’s chair, and plopped the alien into his lap. The smaller swatted at his hands, though he made no move to get down, “Here, why don’t you show me how it works?” 

 

Smoothing out his uniform, Zim cleared his throat, “Eh, _yes_ , right. But _DON’T GET ANY IDEAS,_ Meat-brain! This technology belongs to _ZIM!_ You are _FORBIDDEN_ from retaining any long-term memories of its workings!” when given a lighthearted promise from Dib, the IRKEN huffed, and turned his attention back towards the WORMNAV. Extending a hand, Zim pressed a button located on the right side of the device, allowing it to power up. It had a screen similar to many portable GPS systems that Dib seen, and even used, before, though it had a large touch-sensitive keypad located beneath it. “If everything is working correctly, I should be able to input our current coordinates…” three clawed fingers typed away on the keypad, until Zim stopped, taking a moment to reach into his PAK and pull out the note that Ria had given them, “... as well as the coordinates of our destination… and _then…”_ as soon as both coordinates were set, the WORMNAV kicked into action, numbers and letters flowing downwards across the screen as it seemingly searched for a wormhole that fit the parameters given. Zim sat, antennae pointed up and towards the device, holding his breath as it scanned. Dib could feel his companion’s entire body tremble in anticipation. _Would it work?_

 

_[SCANNING…]_

_[SCANNING...]_

_[SCANNING…]_

_[SUFFICIENT ANOMALY DETECTED]_

 

Zim’s eyes widened, and he immediately reached his arms out, both hands clasping onto the sides of the WORMNAV. He was leaning in so far that Dib had to grab onto his waist to keep him from toppling forwards. Even so, the alien’s face was only _inches_ away from the screen. 

 

**_“IT FOUND ONE!”_** Zim shrieked, turning to look over his shoulder at Dib, as if to make sure he was excited, too, _“SEE?! IT **WORKS!** ” _

 

“Yeah? Is that what it says?” Dib, too, leaned forward slightly, still holding onto the alien to keep him in place, “It really found a wormhole that can take us to Nerlon?” 

 

_“OF COURSE IT HAS!_ You _DOUBT_ the mighty _ZIIIIM?!”_

 

“No, no! I’m just… _surprised_ , is all! You’ve… done a really good job, Zim.” Dib admitted, correcting his posture as he removed one hand in order to rub the back of his neck. It felt a little awkward to be _impressed_ by the alien who he had once fought against, but he couldn’t deny the feeling. He was thoroughly awed by the IRKEN’s engineering. 

 

Zim felt his face heat up, and he quickly turned back towards the WORMNAV, _“Yes,_ well…” tapping on the screen of the little console brought up further information on the discovered anomaly, “This wormhole is located just over an _hour’s VOOT ride_ away from Earth, and it looks like it puts us, uh… _three_ hours outside of the boundaries of Nerlon. So, if you would like to reach that… _eugh… WRETCHED_ planet _today,_ I would recommend we leave immediately!” 

 

“You don’t have to convince me!” Dib replied, “I’m ready when you are!” 

 

With that, Zim wasted no time lowering the windscreen around them, sealing the inside of the ship for takeoff. As he leaned forward to tap away at the VOOT’s controls, his free hand reached back, clasping tiny fingers around one of Dib’s wrists, the boy’s hands still held securely around his waist. 

 

* * *

 

 

_“There! Look there!”_

 

Brown eyes followed in the direction that the claw was pointed, where a swirling vortex of pink and blue began to open before them, as if anticipating their arrival. Dib’s eyes widened, and he sat up straight in the pilot’s chair, which he had slowly began to slouch further and further down into over the past hour. The sight of the anomaly brought back memories of the early days of their rivalry. Horrible, terrible, _moosey_ memories. A shiver ran down the boy’s back, though he tried his best to shove those thoughts out of his head. There was no time for reliving past ungulate-related trauma! 

 

_“PREPARE_ yourself, _DIB-worm!_ The wormhole will soon be upon _UUUSSS!”_ Zim rose a fist, which shook as he clenched it. 

 

“A-And you’re _sure_ this thing will take us to Nerlon? I don’t think I can count on the same escape plan a second time!” 

 

_“WE’RE ABOUT TO FIND OUT!”_

 

Slamming both hands down onto the controls, Zim sped the little cruiser forwards, and into the open maw of the anomaly. For a moment, the world around the duo seemed to warp and stretch as they broke through into the flow of the wormhole. Blue rings whizzed by the ship as time settled once more. Dib let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. He would never get used to that feeling. Thankfully, he seemed relatively unaffected. _Zim,_ however, had fallen back against the boy, and was now holding his head in one hand, eyes squeezed shut. 

 

“Hey,” the human placed a hand against the alien’s forehead, leaning down to get a better look at his face, “you alright there, Buddy? You’re pale again.” 

 

It took the IRKEN a moment to allow his eyes to blink open, and he sat up with a groan, “Yes, yes,” he grumbled, swatting at Dib’s hand, “Zim is _fine!_ It has simply been, eh… _some time_ since I last passed through one of these.” 

 

“Alright…” Zim didn’t _sound_ too worse for wear, albeit a little woozy, so Dib decided not to push the issue any further. Though, he found a new seed of worry taking root in his chest. _He couldn’t go through all of that again._

 

_“NOW!”_ the IRKEN properly righted himself once more, and reached out to check the console, “WORMNAV should be picking up on the time-space difference created by the wormhole. We _should_ begin to receive readings based on our current position inside the anomaly, that we can _then_ use to properly chart our course to the other side. _Any moment noooww…”_ the steady blink of the word “CALIBRATING”, written in IRKEN DOOM, soon gave way to strings of numbers and IRKEN letters. With the stream of information reflecting back into the alien’s shining eyes, he selected a few of the strings, typed in a couple of commands, and received the data he was looking for, _“AH-HA!_ Approximately _10.25 minutes_ until we reach the opposite end!” 

 

_“Huh.”_ Dib’s brows raised, “That’s not too long!” 

 

_“I BET I CAN CUT IT DOWN TO SEVEN, EASY!”_

 

_“Wait, Zim,_ _hang on a minute--!”_

 

Reasoning with the IRKEN was not an option, as he had already slammed his hands once more against the controls, sending the VOOT CRUISER zipping forwards through the neon tunnel.


End file.
